


Won't Ever Let You Go

by L_Durven



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Durven/pseuds/L_Durven
Summary: Yennefer returns to Aretuza after the Battle of Sodden, but she's not quite herself. She has spent a month of rest in Aretuza, and has successfully regained her sight, but something darker is brewing. She is losing control, but Tissaia refuses to accept her fate, one that befalls so many mages who specialize in fire.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 109
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

“Rectoress, you know that Yennefer is dangerous. Unpredictable. Once a mage goes down that road, there is little chance of them turning back. They can’t control themselves, and the girl has never been one known for self-control to begin with.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, almost absently. As Tissaia wandered through her small greenhouse, Stregobor trailed behind as though he was out for nothing more than a evening stroll. She stopped to trim a few bracts from one of her Juniper blooms and continued: “A sorceress gifted in fire has not been born for a very long time. It has been an area that humans, for whatever reason, have always struggled to adapt as a specialty.”

“Do you believe her elven blood will protect her from the madness?”

“It’s hard to say. I’ve never known a fire mage more than in passing, and I’ve certainly never known one with elven blood. She can be rash. Without a doubt, she has an abysmal temper. She can be unpredictable, but I think everyone can be now and then.” She stopped and cocked her head at him. “Do you truly think her a lost cause?”

“I fear that if we leave her, we may miss the signs and it will be too late to stop her.”

“Extinguish the flame before it gets out of control. How very… _you_.” She raised an eyebrow at the other man and challenged him with a smirk. He huffed, but did not deny it.

“Well? What would you suggest then?”

“What if she stays here? A sabbatical of sorts, where she can train and take time to find herself. I will keep an eye on her.”

“And if we lose her? Will you be the one to kill her?” Tissaia paused then, and pursed her lips. Stregobor had his gaze narrowed on her. He already knew that it was unlikely.

“I’m not sure that I could,” she admitted. “But if she agrees to it, and if it would allow her to be somewhat free, I’d be willing to bind my chaos with hers in a traditional apprenticeship.” The slight lift in his eyebrows was the only thing that betrayed his surprise.

“That is quite the commitment, though the girl agreeing will be half the battle. I know I don’t need to present all the ways this could go wrong. After all, you're a full-grown woman who is not prone to rash or under-educated decisions. We’ll need to bring it to the council, and if they agree, then she may stay here to study under you.”

“If there's nothing else, then perhaps we could reconvene at the meeting and go from there.” Stregobor bowed deeply before seeing himself to the door, but before he was disappeared completely, he turned back.

“Rectoress?” She looked up from the plant she was working on. The tender expression on his face almost made her nervous.

“Convince her and I _will_ back your proposal. I cannot imagine there being much of a dispute if we actually agree on a solution for once.” Tissaia said nothing more, but she felt her posture almost sag in relief. How long had it been since they had an evening like this, where they could speak rationally and without wanting to rip each other limb from limb? It reminded Tissaia of the man that she had once been able to call a friend, and she offered him a small smile of gratitude.

“I appreciate your support. Goodnight, Stregobor.”

“Goodnight, Tissaia.” When he was gone, she leaned against the desk and let out a long sigh.

* * *

Yennefer, expecting Tissaia at the ninth bell without fail, had resorted to curling up in an armchair every night after dinner, delving into whatever tome she had procured from the library.

As she had done for the last month, the Rectoress knocked and immediately entered. Like always, she asked Yennefer how she was feeling, inquired what she was reading, all while scanning the room for some sort of invisible problem (which she never found). She placed the tray on the table between the two large armchairs, before turning to Yennefer. She took her chin in one hand while the other moved back and forth in a silent command to follow it with her eyes. The younger sorceress had long given up the fight that she didn’t need to be mothered.

As she did every night, when satisfied, Tissaia poured both her and Yennefer matching cups of tea. Yennefer marked her page and put her book aside, taking the proffered drink and watching Tissaia settle in the chair across from her. Normally, this is where they would have a light conversation of whatever was on Yennefer’s mind, or sometimes about Tissaia’s day. But tonight they sat in silence. Yennefer eyed the other woman up over the rim of her mug.

“You look guilty,” Yennefer said rather matter-of-factly. Tissaia’s eyes stayed glued to her own mug, and she fidgeted.

“I suppose that means your sight is completely back to normal.”

“I told you it was three nights ago - don’t change the subject. I'm invested in knowing what has got you fidgeting like a virgin on her wedding night.” She didn’t bother hiding her smirk at Tissaia’s scowl.

“Always so crude, _honestly_. I am not guilty of anything, Yennefer. We need to discuss something and…”

“I’m not going to like it?”

“Probably not,” Tissaia confirmed. Yennefer said nothing more but motioned with her hand for the other woman to continue. “It’s about the Chapter meeting coming up…”

“Oh, my trial?”

“Yennefer…” Tissaia rubbed her temples. “It's not a trial. I spoke to Stregobor tonight.” Yennefer’s eyebrows almost hit her hairline but she said nothing, just leaned back in her chair as though she was bracing herself for something horrible. “We spoke about you and your… _proficiency_ in fire magic. How are you feeling? Are you struggling at all?”

“As much as I’m enjoying watching you squirm, let’s cut to the point.”

“Fire magic as a specialty has not traditionally ended well in the past. The Chapter is concerned, and for once, with good reason. It’s not common nowadays, but I’d like to offer you an apprenticeship. Not just any apprenticeship, though. Our chaos would be bound together. You would have to live here, but you would be free to study whatever you wanted. I- I would not restrict your travel indefinitely. I just, well I can’t foresee how it will go.”

“No.”

“It’s your decision, but I want you to give it some serious thought. Please don’t think I am forcing you into anything. I just-“

“No.”

“Yennefer – can we at least discuss it?”

“This is your solution?” Tissaia opened her mouth then closed it, nodding. “You know how much I resent Aretuza.” Tissaia said nothing, but her lips pressed into a thin line. “And you know the very thought of being cooped up either terrifies or enrages me.” An eyebrow this time, obviously in agreeance, as much as she didn't want to be. “You come here to put something on the table that is not one, but two things I hate. And I am aware - if only from research - how invasive a traditional apprenticeship can be. It’s a lifelong _fucking_ commitment.” Her voice was almost quivering and she knew it was rising with her temper. 

“Yes,” Tissaia offered, in a defeated voice that Yennefer hadn’t even imagined her former mentor being capable of. The younger sorceress put her tea on the table, closed her eyes briefly, and took a deep breath to try to calm herself.

“I’m not an idiot,” Yennefer said softly, though a hint of aggravation still bit through. “I know you would never have come here with that, of all things, if it wasn’t the best solution. I am not saying no because of my feelings on the matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been cooped up in this room for a month. I’ve behaved fairly reasonably. I’ve read more books in the last week than I have in almost a hundred years, and it’s not like I don’t read. I’m not the same selfish brat that I was before Sodden, but I’m not entirely myself either and I suspect you already know this. Tissaia, don’t throw your life away for me.”

They shared a long look and Tissaia’s hand snaked across the table and tentatively took hold of Yennefer’s. They sat there quietly, Yennefer watching her Rectoress’ resolve build back up.

 **Show me.** Yennefer took a sharp breath and shook her head, but Tissaia just pushed again. **Yennefer. _Please_. **Yennefer knew a whimper had escaped her, but it was too late to stop it as she lowered the barrier that stood between the memory and the Rectoress.

Anger. Rage. Pain. Everything she ever felt expelled in one terrifying sweep of flame. Their enemies were dying, screams echoing as flesh peeled from their limbs.

 _Pleasure._ She was drowning, drunk on the power coiling within her. The only thing that kept her from succumbing was the small form huddled in the dirt - the woman who had resigned herself to death by her hand. Also the woman that Yennefer refused to kill. The battle was already done and there was no one left. Not true. The Rectoress was still alive, and if she wanted her to stay that way, she had to stop. She knew that was going to lose control any time, but the flames would not end. So Yennefer did all she could think of: she threw herself into a portal.

She was at her shore. Everything around her held its breath – the tide, the trees, the very air around her. Without direction, a delayed crack was let loose and her chaos broke free once again. It ripped around her in a fiery tempest. Endless. Glorious. Nothing could stop her. Everyone that had ever wronged her… why hadn’t she killed them? Why leave loose ends?

 _Kill them now_ , something in her urged. _Make them suffer until they thank you for the mercy that will be their death._

She was screaming. Rocks turned to ash. Patches of shore became pools of molten sand . The trees, not to be excluded, wilted and turned to nothing. Her sanctuary was destroyed and torched beyond recognition. She didn’t know how much time passed. In a last ditch effort, she threw herself into the water and felt steam curl around her. These were the waves that had comforted her for decades, and now even they were trying to escape her wrath.

She laughed. It was cruel and empty. She could barely recognize it. And she laughed until it turned to wracking sobs. The memory was becoming too much. She was losing control.

**Yennefer. YENNEFER. I’m here. You need to finish the memory.**

_**I can't.** _

**I have you. You stopped this the first time by yourself. You came to Aretuza. How did you stop it?**

Yennefer blinked. What _had_ stopped her?

_Tissaia._

She remembered the last moments with the woman. How she had come back. How wounded the woman had looked, but she had still pressed to find Yennefer – just Yennefer, no one else. She had entrusted her with her own end. Before and after, her eyes had absolutely shone with pride. Despite how much she had purposely antagonized the other woman, Tissaia had been proud of her, had always been so, and suddenly the young sorceress could not imagine anything more important than that realization.

The cruelty faded away and her chaos sputtered. She clung to the memory of those clear blue eyes, always unafraid. She savoured the few memories she unknowingly cherished, in which the two women were not at each other’s throats. It felt like the Rectoress was her only lifeline. She may very well have been.

Yennefer emerged wet and spent from the river. Rivulets of smoke encased the shore. Ruined. Just like the outskirts of Sodden. She used the last of her energy to drop herself onto Aretuza’s doorstep.

The moment that Yennefer lost consciousness in the memory, she ripped the two of them from her mind and shut down her thoughts as though they were poison. Her breath was shaky and she realized that she was crying. The air crackled with unformed chaos. Curious. It was not just hers. Tissaia's must have reacted.

The Rectoress was sitting at her feet, her hands entwined with Yennefer's so tightly that it was a marvel either had any circulation. Her head was resting against Yennefer’s knees, and the two of them were both breathing heavily. Yennefer could still feel the brush of their connection and reached out, not trusting her voice.

 **It’s always there. I’m losing control.** There was a pause, but Yennefer did not feel resentment or disgust wash over her like she thought she would. Perhaps determination? Something else.

 **You _will_ control it,** **and I will help you.**

**There’s going to come a time. You’re going to have to-**

**_No_.**

**I want it to be you. _Please._** Another long pause, a wave of anger. Frustration. Then nothing. Tissaia was shutting herself off.

 **You stupid, beautiful girl.** The thought came as a near-snarl, and Yennefer’s eyes widened in surprise. **Do you not understand? I _can’t_ , Yennefer. If you are to die from this, it will be over my corpse. I will not - no, I _cannot_ let you go.**

“Tissaia…” She reclaimed one of her hands and brushed back a stray piece of hair from the head in her lap. When the other woman looked up, the two of them just stared at each other. Yennefer felt herself swallow thickly as she ran her hand along Tissaia's cheek and jaw. She sank from her chair and rested their foreheads together, not unlike Sodden. It brought a calm over Yennefer, and for a moment she imagined that this fool of a plan might work.

"If my wellbeing is your only concern, let me do this for you. Let us try. _Please_."

"What if I hurt you?"

"Then we tried our best." Part of her wanted to tell Tissaia she had lost her mind. Part of her wanted to run. Mostly, she just wanted a solution that wouldn't put the Rectoress in harm's way, but other than this, she couldn't think of anything. Again she felt that calm radiate through her, and finally she hummed in agreement.

"I suppose there is only one thing to do, then." She didn't miss the way that Tissaia held her hands tighter, or the smile of relief that passed over her face.

Aretuza-bound, how bad could it be, really?


	2. Chapter 2

Day one wasn’t bad; day two was questionable. Yennefer found herself wandering the halls, nearly bursting at the seams with a mixture of boredom and anxiousness. She knew it was entirely in her head, though she would never admit it out loud. After all, she had spent the last month recovering without going stir-crazy. Yes, just _knowing_ that it was the second day of possibly forever was giving her an insatiable itch. No matter how she tried to reason with it, it didn’t settle well with her.

Tissaia was off teaching whatever class Tissaia taught in the morning. What time was it anyway? Mid-morning? Was it too soon for lunch? Yennefer wandered out onto a fifth-floor balcony and leaned against its edge. It was her new favourite spot: there was always a pleasant breeze, the view was stunning, and for however long she needed, she had a reprieve from the dim, stuffy halls of Aretuza.

“FUUUUUCK!” She shouted suddenly, for absolutely no reason at all. It wasn’t mature, she knew, but _damn_ it felt good to do it just because she could. The fact that it echoed delightfully was a bonus, and caused a giddy smile to grace her lips.

“What are you doing?” Yennefer turned to meet a curious set of eyes. It was one of the students she had met before Sodden.

“Fola, was it?” The girl’s face brightened. She had seen Yennefer briefly over the last month, but the Rectoress had very clearly warned them all not to address her unless spoken to, and to let her heal in peace. 

“Ah! I didn’t think you would remember me. I was passing by when I heard the yell. I thought your choice of vocabulary interesting, so I came to investigate. May I ask why are you shouting at nothing?”

“Because it felt good. You should try it.”

“Rectoress de Vries says we shouldn’t curse. She says it’s a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

“Yes, well. Does she say the same thing about fun?” Fola’s lips quirked as she tried not to smile. Yennefer motioned the girl over, who joined her. The two looked over the balcony in comfortable silence. “She’s probably right,” Yennefer sighed finally. “About cursing, I mean. I never listened to her and now look, I’m a wreck _and_ I have a filthy mouth. She doesn’t curse, and she’s all regal and shit. _Clearly_ a direct correlation if I’ve ever seen one.” A giggle finally escaped the other girl, who immediately tried to stifle it between clenched lips. How cute, Yennefer thought. Her demeanor reminded her of Anica’s when they were younger. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“Oh," An embarrassed blush crept up her cheeks. "I was dismissed for the day. We were doing telepathy and I completely suck. I lost my temper.”

“Really!” Fola scrunched her eyebrows and frowned.

“It’s nothing to be happy about!” Yennefer waggled her brows, and nudged her with a shoulder. Had they been so easy to rile up when they were younger? _Probably_.

“Well, there’s nothing to it then. You’ll need to shout over this ledge. It’ll make you feel better.” The two of them stood quietly – Yennefer watching a series of emotions flit across the girl’s features as she decided if she would do it or not. Finally, she nodded and took a deep breath.

“BULLOOOOOOOCKS!!!” And like Yennefer’s shout, it echoed all the way down the chasm. Yennefer blinked owlishly before she started howling, the other girl joining in at her own expense. _Bullocks_. Hold the wards, she thought, we’ve got a real wildcat on our hands here. When she was done laughing, she wiped a tear from her eye and smiled widely.

“You remind me of my friend when I was younger. She was very kind, and very well behaved. She would have probably yelled the same thing you just did. But she never lost her temper. Perhaps you’re a bit like myself in that regard.”

“I feel like I lose my temper all the time.”

“I lost my temper a lot when I was your age, and to be honest I still do. I could tell you to be more careful and try to resist lashing out, but wouldn’t that be the pot calling the kettle black, hm? I’m a lot of questionable things, but I try not to be a hypocrite. If it makes you feel any better, I was absolute rubbish at telepathy and even tried to lie that I had been able to read my friend's worst fear. It didn’t go well.”

“Oh spirits,” Fola breathed, eyes wide. “She’s _so_ strict. She must have been livid. How did you end up getting it?”

“I had a friend who was much further along in his lessons. Having a partner that isn’t trying to learn at the same time can go a long way. Hey – class should be another hour or so, would you like to try with me? If the others are getting it, you’re probably closer than you think.”

And that is exactly how Tissaia found the two of them, sitting with their knees together, eyes closed, and hands lightly clasped. The Rectoress had been nearly silent in her approach, but Yennefer cocked her head to the side in recognition. Fola didn’t make any indication that she had heard her.

“Tissaia's here?” the younger girl murmured, before her eyes shot open and her head snapped toward the entrance in surprise. She look absolutely mortified that she had addressed the woman without her title. "Rectoress! My apologies!"

“Very good!” Yennefer commended, pulling the attention back to her by squeezing the girl’s hands before releasing. As Fola realized what she had actually done, she absolutely radiated with satisfaction. Though it was rare for her to show any praise, Tissaia couldn’t help but nod approvingly at them.

“Very good, Fola. Now run along to your midday meal, and don’t be late for your next class.” The girl bowed and hurried past Tissaia. She mouthed a 'thank you' to Yennefer who just winked in reply. When they were alone, she addressed Yennefer. “How are you doing?”

“Not bad, actually.” Yennefer was brushing off her dress and approached the railing again, gazing down at the valley wistfully. “Though I was helping her, the company was welcome. She seems bright.”

“She is. She struggles to harness her raw talent, and has a bit of a temper, but she’s nowhere near as disruptive as another little piglet that I once taught.” Tissaia stood beside her, close enough that their arms were pressed against one another, and though she noticed, Yennefer didn’t move away. There was something comforting about the proximity. “Try not to corrupt my girls. As intriguing as it sounds, I do not need a small army of mini-Yennefers on my hands.”

“Corrupt? As if I would do such a thing.” Yennefer cast a sidelong look at the woman next to her, who was staring down at the chasm.

“Well, I should go make an appearance before afternoon lessons. I have some errands this evening, so it’s unlikely I will see you before the Chapter meeting in the morning.”

“Oh. I'll see you then, I guess.” She was surprised at the wash of disappointment. Yennefer had really started looking forward to seeing Tissaia nightly. The Rectoress ran her hand along Yennefer’s arm in parting as she headed back inside.

“Yennefer? We heard you all the way down on the second floor. I’m going to assume the other floors heard you as well. Do try to refrain from yelling senseless profanity from the parapets.”

“ _Oops._ ” There was an undignified snort before Tissaia disappeared, leaving Yennefer to stare at where the retreating form had been. She proudly mulled that it had certainly not been a very Tissaia-like noise, and sounded oddly similar to one of her own mannerisms.

* * *

Yennefer was up earlier than usual, nervous for the verdict that the Chapter would bestow on her this morning. If all went well, she would be bound to Tissaia for, well, _ever_. Which wasn’t, maybe, a terrible thing. Not if it was her. Anyone else though? Well, she wouldn’t still be waiting around here if it was someone else.

She wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if they denied the apprenticeship, and it turned into a full-blown trial on what to do with her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t find out. She threw on her dress and contemplated if she should find something with less cleavage. Would it even matter? 

In the end, she decided that half the Chapter had probably seen her in less than what she was wearing now, and dressing like a nun would do nothing to sway them. Those that knew what was going to go down, had likely made up their mind. Those who had no clue what was to be presented, probably didn’t know how to make a decision on their own anyway. Such was the way of things.

She entered the grand hall and looked around. A couple of the other mages whispered while staring at her. A few nodded and turned away. Triss passed her and took her hand briefly, affectionate and supportive, but was gone as quick as she came. Sabrina’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded in acknowledgment before resuming her conversation with a woman that Yennefer recognized as a new teacher. Perhaps she was a returning one? She wasn't sure, but what she was sure about was that she would never get away with an outfit like that. So how did she? The woman’s dress cut down right to her waistline, never connecting back together. Perhaps she would need to introduce herself and find out how she had evaded Tissaia’s unspoken dress code.

**Yennefer.**

She turned in search of where Tissaia was, when in swept the Rectoress with Stregobor close on her heels. They each took their respective spots and Yennefer froze. Should she stay at the back? Near the door in case she had to make a run for it?

**Next to me, please. And not a word from you. If you can manage.**

Relief flooded her and she moved to stand on Tissaia’s right. It didn’t go unnoticed by many in the room. She couldn't care less about being stared at, but for whatever reason, Stregobor’s was a bit unsettling. It was intelligent, cautious, and most importantly, closed off from any other emotion.

“We have a lot to discuss today, but the first and most important matter of business that must be decided is in regard to Yennefer of Vengerberg. Arch-Mistress, the floor is yours.”

“As discussed in our previous meeting, there’s been a lot of speculation and concern over Yennefer’s aptitude with fire magic. As many of you know with past sorceresses, fire magic is rather volatile in nature. However, it not a learned magic, like the dark arts, and therefor I do not feel that she should be punished for such.”

“For everyone's safety, bound by dimeritium may be a viable solution.”

“Have _you_ ever been shackled, Artorious?" It was the under-dressed, new rector. Yennefer was liking her more by the minute. "Torn away from the chaos that has been your entire core and birthright for decades, often centuries? It’s ridiculously cruel. Even for actual crimes, I often question if it isn’t more of a mercy just to hang the guilty instead.” The room exploded then.

_What about potions?_

_Is there a spell to limit her?_

_How long would she need to be bound?_

_What are the other options?_

_A death sentence is a little harsh for doing what was needed to win a battle._

_The way those soldiers died should be a war crime._

_Why are we even here? Isn’t Nilfgaard recruiting necromancers? Isn’t that more important?_

_She saved the remaining mages at Sodden. A battle is a battle._

Yennefer gave Tissaia a pointed look, and got an exasperated shake of her head in return.

“SILENCE.” Stregobor’s voice rose above the buzzing. “Tissaia, continue.”

“My solution I planned to propose, before everyone decided to chime in with their _resounding_ wisdom, was to bind us through an apprenticeship and help Yennefer control her chaos. But as per law, it needs to be presented to the Chapter and approved. We are both aware of its permanence, but I still feel it’s the best solution.”

“And you Yennefer? Are you in agreeance with this?”

“Yes.” There were a couple looks of muted shock. Yennefer of Vengerberg agreeing to such a thing – who would have thought? In fact, Yennefer not cutting in with some sort of scathing remark toward Aretuza, or her blunt opinion on the meeting was a near miracle in itself. Even Sabrina’s eyes widened a little in surprise.

“Let us not waste any more time on this. I call for a majority vote. All in favour for Rectoress de Vries taking Yennefer on as an apprentice by chaos-binding, raise your hand.” Yennefer put up her hand immediately.

**You don’t get a vote.**

**Just stretching my arm.**

When Tissaia shot her an unimpressed look, she just grinned and wiggled her fingers. Stregobor’s hand was also up in favour, which caused many of the Brotherhood to raise their own. With Tissaia’s vote, several more hands followed again. It was not unanimous, but it was damn close. Yennefer let out a breath of relief that she didn’t know she was holding onto.

* * *

It was shortly after lunch, when there was a familiar knock on her door. “If you are here to pull me back into a Chapter meeting, you better have an accompanying noose. A hundred years was shaved off my life today, I swear.” She opened the door and was cut short as she stared at the woman before her. Tissaia had on a travelling cloak, and a satchel peeked out from near her waist.

“Your attendance in those meetings will be expected far more than you’ll like.”

“They could at least offer to get us drunk.”

“Yes, well. If you’ve shaved off a hundred years with a single meeting, I imagine my demise is just over the horizon. At least we’ll suffer together until then. Now, I need to go collect ingredients for our binding. Do you want to get out and stretch your legs a little bit? It’ll just be a trip to town and then into the forest. More leisure than work, if you ask me. And if you want to come, we could do the ceremony tonight and be back by dawn.”

“Oooo, an adventure. How could I say no? Let me grab my cloak.” Tissaia stepped back to wait for Yennefer, who nearly ran to grab her travelling clothes. She wondered if she should give them a shake. It was hard to believe there wasn’t a thin film of dust settled into them.

* * *

“Should I cast a portal?” Yennefer asked as they reached the outskirts of Aretuza, and away from the wards that had been erected.

“Don’t bother. It’s a lovely day and we’re in no rush. Margarita has agreed to cover my duties until I return.”

“Margarita? Oh, is she the one that wears the dresses that make mine look like nunnery garb? With the nice tits?” She heard Tissaia choke.

“Yennefer. Honestly. But yes, that’s her.”

“Do you think I could borrow one?” Tissaia turned to glare at the younger sorceress, under the assumption that she was trying to get a rise from her as she so often did. Instead, she found Yennefer deep in thought, likely imagining herself in Margarita’s dress. This made Tissaia feel strangely uncomfortable. Especially when her eyes raked over Yennefer’s form and did the same thing.

She turned away from Yennefer and kept walking, feeling the heat of a blush creep up her neck. What had she gotten herself into?

The two of them walked in relative silence, occasionally pointing out something on their way. Yennefer did not ask what they were going for, seemingly content to follow the Rectoress around for some fresh air. Tissaia had woven through the streets and picked up a few things that she needed. The younger sorceress wandered away to purchase a few things of her own, and they met on the outskirts of the town to continue towards the forest.

They exited the path early on, foraging and digging for a variety of herbs that Tissaia had listed. Yennefer had to admit that the Rectoress had quite the eye. She actually started to wonder if she could see through the plants, for more than once she stopped, shoved her hand under a bushel of leaves, and extracted exactly what she was looking for. For everything that Yennefer picked, it seemed that Tissaia had picked three.

The autumn sun was just starting to disappear when Tissaia called for them to make camp. Yennefer found it strange that they weren’t just casting a portal home, and said as much.

“This is a very intimate process,” was the answer. “I don’t know what will happen exactly. I don’t know what will change. If you had not come, I would have taken a portal back and we would have done it there. Since you’re here, and my duties are otherwise taken care of, I thought it might be a bit more private than under the prying eyes of others. If you would like to go back, we can.”

“I was just curious. Never thought I’d be out on a camping trip with the great Arch-mistress of Aretuza.” She left then, gathering firewood and making a small fire to keep them warm. Tissaia worked quietly from a seat of a stump, mixing and grating several things into a paste.

When they were settled, they shared a loaf of bread from Tissaia’s bag. Yennefer caught them a rabbit by charming the poor thing to hop right into their camp and practically onto the spit. Afterwards, Yennefer pulled out a flask of ale and poured them each a mug. When Tissaia pulled out a pipe and packed it with some sort of concoction, Yennefer quirked a brow. The older woman took a few puffs. Yennefer just stared at her.

“Why is it that everything you do looks… _like this_?” Yennefer motioned to Tissaia's whole person, unsure of what exactly she was trying to say. “Were you royalty in your past life? Or is it just something you magically come into after time? Margarita’s got her smoking hot body. Stregobor is exactly what a wizard is supposed to be like. You’ve got… I don’t know… your entire... _you_.”

The woman smiled around her pipe tip, then offered it to Yennefer.

“Are you ready?” Realizing that this was part of this supposed ritual – which Yennefer was suddenly aware she knew nothing about - she took the pipe almost gingerly in her hands and copied what Tissaia had done. The older woman grabbed the paste that she had prepared, took the pipe back from the younger woman, then drew two runes on the back of each of Yennefer’s hands and one on her forehead. “Same on mine, please.”

Yennefer copied, careful to get them just right, and then Tissaia guided their hands so that they rested in a stack upon each other.

“Last chance, love.” Yennefer’s head was starting to feel a bit light, perhaps from the pipe. Last chance. Last chance to keep her life solely her own. Was binding herself to this woman what she really wanted? Their relationship had improved immensely; however, what if Tissaia found out things that Yennefer didn’t want her to know? What if Yennefer disgusted her? This wasn’t something you just walked away from.

“Tissaia… wait. Will you be able to read my mind?”

“Not quite. You’ll know where I am. You’ll know what kind of mood I'm in. You’ll know slips of feeling and it will be more difficult to cut off our telepathy than engage it. I imagine it’ll be very similar to the connection we already share, but maybe a bit more? Constant. You won’t be able to hide certain things, but either will I. I will have no more power over you than you have over me - if that makes you feel any better.”

“Do you have nothing to hide?” Tissaia stared at her in a way that was a definite yes. So, she had things to hide, but she didn’t remove her hands, and her resolve didn’t waver. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll judge you?”

“Yennefer, I’ve been being judged by you for over 60 years, and to be quite honest there are times that it is... upsetting, to say the least. I am terrified that once we are connected, you will be completely mortified. I am not as controlled and collected as you have me painted. Not in my head.”

“I’m not backing out,” Yennefer blurted, moving closer. “But what are you most afraid of? I want to know. I want you to tell me, before it’s not an option anymore.” Tissaia worried her lip, the first visible sign that she was nervous about all this. After tonight, she realized, I will be able to tell when she’s like this without the visual cues. Interesting. 

“Very well. Close your eyes.” It was nearly a whisper, and she took her hands from their pile and brushed a stray curl from Yennefer’s face. “And once I tell you, I'm sorry, but I'll need you to make a decision. It is, of course, a choice.”

“I’m not backing out,” she repeated. "I don't care what it is." Yennefer's eyes slid shut. A long moment passed and she could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears. She heard Tissaia shift, then take a shaky breath. She wanted to peek, but forced her eyes shut tighter.

A hand traced her cheek and then… softness. _Oh_. An unbelievable, sweet brush against her lips and Yennefer’s entire world came to a screeching halt. Tissaia de Vries had kissed her.

And as the soft brush began to recede, Yennefer followed it. Suddenly Tissaia was no longer retreating and instead sinking back into the kiss that Yennefer was reciprocating. It was tender. Tentative. It deepened, and Yennefer’s entire body reacted as Tissaia’s hands cupped her face and threaded through her hair. When Tissaia finally pulled away, her hands stayed where they were. Their noses brushed and foreheads leaned up against one another. Tissaia's breath was slightly hitched, not unlike Yennefer’s. 

**It’s me, Yennefer. It’s always been me. You want to be loved? I will love you for the rest of our lives. You want to be needed? The thought of losing you makes me want to scream. I would not bind my chaos with anyone else who has graced, or ever will grace this world - even to save them. But it was never a question with you.**

**This was your secret? The one that terrifies you?**

**Yes.** Tissaia’s voice in her head was wracked with emotion, matched only by blue eyes that glistened brightly.

**I- I’m glad you told me. We can do the binding now.**

**Yennefer?**

**I’m not as good with words. You’ll understand when we are done. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I was so awful to you for all these years. I'm an idiot.**

Overwhelmed by Tissaia’s confession, and not being good at the whole feelings thing, Yennefer moved their hands so they were back in the stack. Tissaia watched her curiously and then smiled softly before reciting an incantation in Elder.

Yennefer repeated it when prompted. They did this two more times each, until the runes flared golden. It was mesmerizing while it lasted, and then disappeared. Yennefer wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Minus the runes still glowing softly against her skin, there was no swirling chaos, no sudden overwhelming connection, no telltale wash that something extraordinary had happened.

“Is that it, then? No weird blood ritual? No dancing naked around the fire?” Tissaia huffed, got up and started busying herself around the fire. She unfurled a conjured bedroll, and started cleaning up around camp. Yennefer jumped up to help.

“I'll have you know the paste was _not_ easy to mix. And it’s an apprenticeship binding, not a downright soul-shattering merging of the minds. This used to be quite common until mages decided they didn’t want to be bound together for their entire lives. Oh, and it’s not instantaneous. We will probably wake up into it.”

Yennefer wanted to address what had transpired before. Or maybe not necessarily discuss it, but a revisit would definitely not be unwelcome. Far from it. She unrolled her own bedding directly beside Tissaia’s, and couldn’t help but notice how the older woman’s gaze flickered to it and the small smile that accompanied in approval.

“Might be cold,” Yennefer offered, though her tone clearly said that was not the reason. It was clear that she didn’t have a lick of shame over such a blatant lie. They drained their mugs before retiring onto their backs. Yennefer pointed out a couple constellations, while Tissaia told her the history behind them. It was Yennefer that yawned first, and turned on her side to face the Rectoress.

“Thank you for going through with the binding,” Tissaia murmured to her, content smile playing along her lips. “I know how hard of a decision it must have been for you.”

“It wasn't that hard.” Tissaia just hummed in reply, but said nothing more. Yennefer reached for her hand and entwined their fingers, then wiggled closer and rested her head on Tissaia’s shoulder. The woman skipped a few breaths, and though the resuming one was shaky, her posture loosened and she leaned into Yennefer so that her chin rested alongside her head.

* * *

_Want._

She woke up in nearly breathless arousal, desire pulsing through her in such a way that her whole body felt the accompanying pinpricks before it settled between her legs. They must have shifted in the night, as Yennefer’s form was pressed firmly into her back. Her arm was wrapped around her, and a leg had crept between her own.

Their connection had finished, it seemed, and Yennefer was dreaming. If the way that Tissaia’s body was reacting was anything to go by, it must be quite vivid. She whimpered unintentionally, and tried to shift to lesson the pressure. All she managed to do was wriggle her bottom against the other woman.

**Yennefer, wake up.**

A hand crept up her belly, and Tissaia felt a blush flare into her cheeks as Yennefer cupped one of her breasts and moaned against her hair. Oh, she had had her share of lovers, and she had certainly harboured thoughts like this toward Yennefer in the privacy of her own chambers. But with Yennefer projecting onto her, it made it all-encompassing and almost unbearable. She had to wake Yennefer up, or somehow get her to dream of something else. And then she would possibly need to take a walk into the woods to cool her head.

**Yennefer. You need to stop. I can’t.**

**Can’t what? You realize this isn’t all me, right?**

Her hand receded and her leg untangled itself from the Rectoress, who rolled over and took one look at the younger sorceress. She was breathing heavily, violet eyes conjuring a storm and bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth. Yennefer clenched the bedroll and Tissaia could sense that she was trying to control herself. But it was too late. It had gone too far, and with a roll, Tissaia straddled Yennefer and pressed the palm of her hands against the shift that she was dressed in. Yennefer’s eyes darkened and her hands ran up Tissaia’s thighs, dragging nails agonizingly slow until they began to quiver.

**Fuck Tissaia, the noises you are making. I thought you couldn't.**

**I can’t stand it, Yennefer. Not I can’t do this. Gods, I thought I lost control of my desire sometimes, but please tell me you are not this aroused all the time.**

**Again. It’s not all me.** Her hands had travelled up Tissaia’s belly and over her breasts, pinching at the already hardening buds. Tissaia mewled in response and ground her hips.

**Tell me you want to stop this.**

**I would rather die.** Tissaia’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward to fumble with what Yennefer had left. Her own shift was discarded, and in a tangle of naked limbs, Tissaia grabbed Yennefer’s hair and pulled her into a searing kiss.

Yennefer thought she might actually die. Her whole body was on fire. She was drunk without the ale, and the entire universe revolved around the woman grinding against her. The forest could have burnt down around them and she would have no idea.

She wasn’t entirely sure what sound the two of them made as her fingers reached between her legs and brushed against Tissaia’s folds, but she was pretty sure they were both very similar. She slipped a finger in, and Tissaia shuddered. She shifted, and Yennefer added another.

**More.**

She watched Tissaia throw her head back as Yennefer added a third finger. Yennefer barely had to move, the Rectoress was pulling herself up and slamming herself back down with such vigor, that it took everything Yennefer had to keep her hand where it was. She began to thrust back, curling her fingers against Tissaia, who was now crying out each time she buried Yennefer’s fingers into her.

This went on until she gave a final cry and came down once more. Her walls tightened and body shuddered, and there was an explosion of pleasure that absolutely radiated through Yennefer’s mind. It was exquisite. It made her whole body react with delight, and she savoured the feeling of a receding climax that was not her own.

Both of their breaths were laboured, though Yennefer’s caught in her throat as she studied the woman on top of her. Her hair had partially fallen out of it’s bun. A layer of sweat glistened against her skin. Her eyes traveled down her body, porcelain and perfect and shifting with each breath she took. And when Tissaia opened her eyes, Yennefer couldn't tear her eyes away.

**You’re beautiful.**

Yennefer very carefully removed her fingers, which elicited another soft sound from the woman. She brought the fingers to her lips and very slowly pushed one at a time into her mouth. _Fuck_. Tissaia even tasted perfect. Wasn’t this some sort of crime?

She could see the emotion sketch itself across the woman’s features, but she could also _feel_ it. She could see why a connection like this could be a problem. But in this case, Tissaia had already told her that she loved her, showed her, and now absolutely radiated it. And Yennefer knew that she was projecting the same thing right back with the way that Tissaia’s eyes softened.

Tissaia was moving. The woman was nipping and sucking at Yennefer’s shoulders and chest. She played with a nipple while she rolled the other. It hurt, but damn, it felt good too. Tissaia hummed against her skin as she went, the vibrations only causing Yennefer to wiggle in delight.

Down she traveled. Lips carried over her legs, worshiping her with every suckle and nip. She pressed kisses against the inside of her foot, and then back up she came, until suddenly she shifted a leg over her shoulder.

**Tissaia…**

And that was all that she managed. When Tissaia’s mouth descended on her, stars littered the back of her eyelids.


	3. Chapter 3

Six weeks had passed in a whirlwind of emotion and tentative learning. Yennefer had not made many appearances outside of the chambers, as she was more than content to curl up with her books while occasionally exploring the bond. If they were not in the room together, it wasn’t very different than being telepathically connected. It was that feeling that someone was sitting with you, and if Yennefer was to be quite honest, she had been so tired of feeling alone.

She found that not a lot came through from the Rectoress during the day. She could always tell when she was teaching, because there would be tiny flares of irritation or pleasure. Yennefer had started playing a game that involved ranking which classes must be Tissaia’s favourite, versus which ones aggravated her to no end.

They were getting better at being together. Yennefer had started waiting (maybe living was the better term for it) in Tissaia’s rooms, which unsurprisingly turned out to be brighter and larger than her own. She had a massive hearth and warm decor, and Yennefer found herself quite content to wait on her settee, which was plush and comfortable and frankly perfect for lounging.

The first week, the moment that Tissaia walked into their chambers, she would come up short at the door and close her eyes, letting the bond readjust itself and wash over her. For the first week, though Yennefer couldn’t complain, the Rectoress could barely get her shoes off. Yennefer closed her eyes, reminiscing, and let arousal wash over her. She had gone through some wild years, brimming with orgies and pleasure. Many of them had been magically-induced. Nothing quite compared to the way their desire had driven them to exhausted love-making almost nightly.

By the second week, Tissaia had addressed that they had to try to control themselves at least a little bit. Yennefer didn’t argue. She could nap and rest and read for the majority of her days. The Rectoress had a draining position prior to the apprenticeship, and there were no personal leave days that wouldn’t be met with judgment. It was no surprise that Tissaia was flagging. Hard.

Yennefer could only imagine the gossip around the castle. Tissaia, always pristine, had started to show signs of exhaustion. Margarita had offered to help cover a few duties, but Tissaia being Tissaia had declined. But there it was: people were starting to notice. She had wondered if anyone gossiped and actually got it right. No one knew what kind of demons she had to battle to keep her chaos in check, and mages tended to be overly dramatic. She assumed they had come up with some epic piece on how Tissaia was constantly anchoring her. To be honest, the two of them admitted that they thought this would be the case as well. Neither had thought that their issue would be the inability to keep their damn hands off one another. Because their overwhelming desire for the other was mutual, it would just feed back and forth until they were left in lust-driven hazes. Though, it could’ve been worse.

Week two they tried, and week three. They did pretty well, considering, but more than once Yennefer would be chastised in the middle of the day to behave herself. There were a couple of slips, one time being when she hadn’t been able to control herself and had decided to take care of it herself. Though their emotions were greatly filtered, depending the distance, it didn’t stop Tissaia from bursting through the door an hour later and practically ravaging Yennefer where she sat. Yennefer had been pushed over the back of a chair roughly and – there was no better way to describe it – fucked until she was a senseless, begging, quivering mass on two legs. Tissaia had been rough that day, rougher than she had been in the past, and when she had been done, she all but grabbed Yennefer by the hair and forced her between her legs. Still thinking about it made Yennefer shiver in delight. Most times their lovemaking was delicate, but when Tissaia got riled up, practically demanding to be pleasured… well, there was something both endearing and mind-blowing about it. It certainly did not make Yennefer want to behave.

After that, their progress took a step back. It took a couple days before they, once again, mutually agreed they needed to control themselves and started over.

Week four went better in more ways than one. The bond seemed to ease up a little, which meant they didn’t bounce emotion off each other as much, and thus, were able to be present in the same room with other people. They had not been seen together by others since the ritual, neither of them ready to even try to explain the sexual tension that was bound to be there.

Week five, Yennefer started interacting with people again. She met with Triss and Sabrina first. Triss had been concerned, but by the time the afternoon was gone and the tea wrapped up, was quite happy with both Yennefer’s mental and physical health. Typical healer. Sabrina had made the odd barb, as she always did, and when she received one in turn seemed satisfied. Triss just rolled her eyes. Some things would never change.

She had run into Fola again, up on the fifth-floor parapets, and the two of them had spent lunch together. Yennefer had offered to tutor her, if needed, and stressed it was only for her and she didn’t need a small study group traipsing around. Fola didn’t seem to mind leaving her two friends behind in favour of meeting Yennefer twice a week for random study. When Tissaia found out, she had seemed nothing short of pleased.

By week six, a routine had been established where Tissaia and Yennefer could be seen near one another “without causing a scandal”, as Tissaia had so eloquently described it. Oh, there was still a lot of scrutiny. Other mages were likely beside themselves with made-up stories of Yennefer’s mental shackling. She had started joining Tissaia for dinners in the great hall, where she finally got properly introduced to Margarita and a couple other rectors that had been pulled in to replace lost teachers. 

It was week seven that Yennefer finally had an incident. It wasn’t that she hadn’t gone seven weeks without being mad at something, and her chaos had sparked uncontrollably here and there. She had gone up to the balcony once or twice to fire some of her frustration off into nothingness, and had managed to bring herself down. There had also been the odd night that she had woke up angry, which had been unprovoked. It was a strange feeling to be overwhelmed while your guard was down, but Tissaia had been there and had calmed her with little effort.

She had to get back there now, but it was taking more effort than normal. Yennefer leaned up against the stone wall and shut her eyes, trying to concentrate on the coolness of the stone. She was happy that the halls were so cold during this time of year, as she was beginning to sweat. It turned cold against her skin, and she focused on the feeling of it. Not unwelcome, she decided.

Deep breaths in and out delayed the building pressure, but she was still struggling.

“Yennefer?” It was Margarita. The woman did not approach her, her eyes wandering around Yennefer’s heavily breathing form slumped against the wall. She can see my chaos, Yennefer thought weakly. “Do you need me to get Tissaia?”

“No,” she croaked. “She’s coming.” There was look of surprise, then realization.

“Is she close? Is there anything I can do to help until she gets here?”

“Just don’t come near me.” Margarita nodded, then leaned against the wall quietly. Yennefer didn’t miss how the air shifted around the older woman. She was summoning her own chaos, just in case, and the realization actually calmed her a little bit. She was glad that her company was no fool.

Margarita hummed, and Yennefer cocked her head, focusing on the notes. It was one of the popular jigs that had circulated through the continent. One of Jaskier’s, if she remembered right. It was upbeat. The words were kind of ridiculous. Her chaos still flickered again, but it was being held. She would need to thank the woman later.

“I’ve got you,” the words came from behind her, breathless from the speed she had come here with, and two comforting arms looped around her waist from behind. Tissaia buried her head into Yennefer’s neck.

Margarita’s humming cut short almost instantly. Her eyebrows raised just a touch, and her mouth formed a pretty little ‘oh’ of surprise. Tissaia and Yennefer had been careful not to show anything other than professional affection for one another when in front of others, but they had also been careful not to brush hands, touch the small of each other’s backs, brush shoulders, or hold eye contact for too long. Anything that would give people any idea that their bond exceeded friendship.

Tissaia could have likely talked her down from nearby, but when she had come around the corner and seen Margarita, she didn’t really care. The other Rectoress, though meddlesome, was discreet.

“How are you feeling,” Tissaia murmured against her hair. “Are you able to walk?”

“Yes. It’s almost over. Thank you for the help,” she aimed the last bit at Margarita, who was still watching them with something akin to glee. Tissaia’s touch had been instantly therapeutic, and now they had been embraced for longer than they had needed to be. Tissaia removed herself from Yennefer and turned to her colleague.

“Rita, if you wouldn’t mind discretion in this matter.”

“Which part?”

“All of it,” Tissaia replied flatly. Margarita hummed in reply and raised a hand in parting. Tissaia rolled her eyes before taking Yennefer’s arm and guiding her towards the stairs.

“Thank you for coming so quick,” Yennefer said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I can go up on my own, you should go back to your class. I’m sorry you had to leave in such a hurry.”

“Do not thank me for such things, love. I only wish I had been quicker.” Yennefer leaned forward and kissed Tissaia on the forehead, who in return lifted her face and brought her into a tender kiss. “I will see you in a couple of hours. Stay out of trouble.”

* * *

“Are you training her?” was Rita’s comment to Tissaia over dinner.

“Yennefer is old enough that she can direct her own learning.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. But Tissaia, when was the last time you did field training? Outside of a dusty tome or away from a cauldron? Our curriculum is to teach the girls battle magic in a week or so. It might be worth it to see you and Yennefer face off against each other.” Yennefer frowned. She had excelled in duelling while here, and was exceptional in the field. She hadn’t trained for a long time though, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it would either trigger her chaos, or help it. What if she hurt Tissaia?

**I don’t think you will hurt me, Yennefer. At your most uncontrolled, in an impossible moment, you protected me. It might be worth a try. It would be good to know if I can still restrain you, if need be.**

**It wasn’t long ago that you said you could.**

**There’s a fine line between wishful thinking and truth, dear.** Yennefer stared at Tissaia who offered her a small smile and a shrug. **No point lying about it. Regardless, you’re still young. Before your first century, your chaos will still develop. It will still change. It will still grow. I have a couple of centuries before mine matures again. Your raw talent will surpass my own soon.**

 **Hello ladies, sorry to intrude. But hi. Hi, I’m right here. You know – the one you were having a conversation with? At least include me in this little meeting of the minds.** Tissaia and Yennefer’s heads both whipped to Margarita, who was sitting there, pointedly not eating her dinner and staring at them with a wry smile. **Unless you’re discussing something completely inappropriate only meant for two? Actually, no, disregard that last bit - still include me. Just pretend I’m not here. Spirits know that I could use a little bit of spice in my life.**

Tissaia was glaring daggers at Rita, clearly frustrated, but Yennefer couldn’t feel any anger behind it. Interesting. So more than colleagues. Friends? Frenemies? Oh! The lightbulb came on.

**She’s your Sabrina!**

**What?** Both voices echoed back, and Yennefer laughed.

“Sabrina,” she said out loud, so that they didn’t draw more attention to themselves, as they very clearly were having a silent conversation. “She’s my friend, but you’d never know it the way we speak to each other. Constantly butting heads.” The two women stared at her and she knew Tissaia was not disputing it, but was not impressed. Rita seemed to enjoy the comparison, and leaned forward.

“Oh, I like her, Tissaia. Why did you keep her to yourself for so long? I feel like I’ve found a long-lost kindred spirit.”

“Because I can’t trust the two of you not to burn this place to the ground with your mischief.” Rita laughed then, Yennefer joining in and Tissaia conceding finally with a small, amused huff.

In the end, they had decided that they would have a training duel in front of Margarita’s class of ten girls. Tissaia had shot short spells at her partner for the last week to test the waters, so to speak, and Yennefer had quite enjoyed returning them in kind. They never seemed to hit their mark.

* * *

If today’s duel went poorly, it would be an unfortunate but valuable lesson for the girls. If it went well, it would be a nice display to encourage them to excel in their classes. Yennefer had lamented that her duel presentation was done by a pair of old men, who stared and muttered and insulted each other a lot before casting a few nasty spells and calling it a day. Afterwards, they had strut around and – for lack of a better term – mansplained magic to the gaggle of bored looking girls. Even Tissaia had been visibly unimpressed.

When they exited the portal, there was Stregobor, Margarita with the students, and Triss. Tissaia had already explained that as a powerful sorcerer and an illusionist, he would be able to step in if needed. Also, he had somehow known about the duel and practically demanded to see it. Margarita would take care of the students. Triss was there just in case someone got hurt, or in case one of the others needed help with anything.

“Good luck, Miss Yennefer.” Fola ran over to Yennefer, who had fallen behind the Rectoress when her name was called. The girl was nearly brimming with excitement. “I’ve been so excited since Rectoress Laux-Antille told us that you and Rectoress de Vries would be doing it.” Yennefer couldn’t help but smile broadly at the girl and she came up and patted her shoulders affectionately.

 **Let’s go. You’re going to cause a rift.** Yes, Yennefer could see a couple of the girls in the back watch the exchange. They practically oozed with jealousy and shot Fola nasty looks. She felt irritation swell. She could speak to whoever she wanted.

 **Oh, should I be strict and call her names instead? So when the current alliances break, she isn’t favoured by anyone? Because overwhelming loneliness and lack of self-worth is the key to being successful and self-sufficient, am I right?** The scathing remarks just popped out one after another, and she could feel Tissaia force herself to shut down.Damn it.

 **Oh? Would you like to have stayed where you were then? Would you have preferred the sack of shit you called father to sell you for a mark a piece to his friends? To be returned and resold over and over, good for nothing else than appeasing the twisted fantasies of men? How long before that happened? A year? A month? A week?**

**Fuck you.**

**No, Yennefer, fuck you. Grow up and look around. The world is full of bad deals and undercuts and swindling. So what if I underpaid for you? I technically didn’t have to pay. It is within my rights to take girls who have conduit moments.**

**I wouldn’t have came.**

**That’s right. Instead, you would have willingly opened your legs for a scrap of praise from a father that loathed your very existence. And that is why I paid four marks for you, so you could see him in the light that he deserved to be cast in. If you learned a lesson and never returned to him, I’d gladly let you resent me for another hundred years over it.**

They portalled down off the ridge and into the valley about a mile, and were walking to where they planned to duel.

“Tissaia, wait.” The older woman turned and looked at Yennefer, her shoulders tense and anger practically rolling off her. Yennefer bit her lip.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It was completely uncalled for.”

“But it’s not untrue, which is why it hurts so much. I pushed you in that direction because that’s what I thought you needed. I never wanted you to rely on anyone else. You’re powerful, and you deserve the world to bend at your will.”

“Do you think element proficiencies are born, or nurtured?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“For example, if I lived an entirely different life where I hadn’t been born with a curved spine, or the bastard daughter of a half-elf, or the adopted daughter of a raging drunk – would I be a fire mage still?”

“You wouldn’t be you at all, I don’t think.”

“Who would I be? Just for the sake of curiosity.”

“You’d be six feet in the ground, long gone from this world just like your mortal family. Without a curved spine, you probably would have married some boy from in town – maybe a farmer or the blacksmith’s son. You would have had a brood of kids, perhaps died from the birth of one, and they would have lived the same sort of life. Your boys would have gone off to war and likely died. You would have never known what you were capable of. You wouldn't have those stunning purple eyes. We would have never fallen in love. Whatever time you had in this world, it would have been either wonderful, or empty.” Yennefer smiled then sadly.

“So maybe both, then. I was just wondering if mages like me all have such tragic pasts.” Tissaia pursed her lips.

“You very well could be onto something. Perhaps we should research it for curiosity’s sake. Thirty paces for each us.” The two of them pressed their backs against each other.

“Tissaia?”  
  
“Yes, Yennefer?”

“I love you. I just want you to know before I wipe the ground with you.” Tissaia laughed then, full and rich, and started counting her paces away from the other woman.

“We’ll see, piglet. We’ll see.”

* * *

The duel started off with a few probing spells. Neither of them could land their weak attempts on the other one - especially with the bond flaring to life and warning the other of something coming. The fun thing about sorceresses fighting, Rita decided as she watched, was that even though they could come off as frigid bitches, they were quite feisty. Sorceresses, as a rule, were very competitive against one another. They didn’t like to lose, and they often had an extreme amount of pent up aggression.

And these two? Neither one of them were the type to let the other win, even if it came to bloodshed. She watched Stregobor out of the corner of her eye, who was watching the fight with a knowing look on his face. She wondered if he had seen the result in his precious crystal ball that he so often spoke of.

BANG.

There it was. Something must have transpired, and the women weren’t messing around anymore. There were stalagmites cresting up where Yennefer was once standing, and in return, the younger sorceress had blasted three house-sized craters from the ground near Tissaia. They exchanged a few more over-the-top spells, when suddenly the rubble from Yennefer’s craters rolled together and formed a golem. The girls squealed in delight as they had only ever read about them. When it stood, it towered above the two women by a good 50 feet. 

Rita smiled. Both were over-expending themselves intentionally, as that had been the plan. A mage could battle with smaller spells for a full day straight before stopping, but hells if Rita was going to camp out here with a group of teenagers to watch two women pick away at each other. She winced as Yennefer finally took the first blow. The sorceress had cast a protective shield around herself, but the force still sent her skidding back a good twenty feet. She stopped moving for a minute – likely dazed. She had ignored the creature, which was a mistake, in favour of going after Tissaia directly. But then again, Tissaia had still been shooting spells around, so it would have been a hard call.

Some of the girls shouted again as the golem came down on Yennefer with its fists, but out she rolled from a portal nearby and was back on her feet immediately. Rita couldn’t see Tissaia, but wondered if she was getting tired yet. Creating anything was taxing, and for it to be shambling around for what must’ve been the better part of an hour now, was an extraordinary feat of strength. Tissaia had always been in a class of her own, even when she tried to hide it.

Golems were not easy to take down and needed to be fully destroyed in one blow. If not, they just rebuilt whatever they lost. This had been the case and Yennefer’s frustration was apparent. Her chaos began to flicker and rip around her, and the aura of it travelled all the way up the cliff-side and filtered over their small group. Margarita and Stregobor immediately began casting spells to protect them in case anything stray came their way.

Yennefer wasn’t moving again. She had her head down, her face unreadable from this distance. The creature was almost to her again. It lifted its boulder-built fists, and even Rita started to get nervous, and then… it staggered.

The sound of concentrated fire was delayed, but when it finally caught up, it roared and screamed all in one. It landed directly into the creature’s chest and though the golem moved, it was unable to fall or retreat from the assault. Flame was not strong against earth, often useless, so it was to everyone’s surprise when the creature began to literally melt in front of them.

It lay unrepairable in a smouldering heap of ash. Yennefer was still standing there with her chaos flickering around her, now approaching her mentor with narrowed eyes. Tissaia deflected the first bolt of fire with a wave of her hand, but Rita noticed that she was scrambling to summon her staff, and got it just in time to deflect the next. Back shot a streak of ice, which skimmed so close to Yennefer’s head that her hair fluttered from the proximity. Her hands glowed orange, and she flicked a twin set of flame orbs at the Rectoress, who once again spun her staff to beat both away.

The staff pointed back at Yennefer and she barked something that no one else could hear at the girl. It must have been some sort of threat, because when Yennefer did not stop, ice began pouring from the staff's gem and it hit Yennefer with such ferocity that it forced her to a standstill. The streak did not stop, but Yennefer had encompassed herself in her own flame, which protected her. She took a very strenuous step forward, then worked on the next.

“Rectoress? Is fire not strong against ice?” Rita stared, unsure of how to answer, half in awe and half in horror at the deadlock below.

“Any element can defeat another if the balance is in its favour. Your Rectoress is a very powerful sorceress, and her specialty is ice. She has clearly resorted to it for the extra strength, even though she knows it might not hold up.”

“But if you melt ice, it turns to water. So, would that work against Miss Yennefer?”

“Very good, child. That’s right. This is kind of an unprecedented fight. You wouldn’t see something like this in normal circumstances.”

“Do you think we should stop them?” Triss was fretting with her hands, watching as the two elements clashed, pouring out a thick, opaque steam that had clouded around the two sorceresses. It lit up different colours, but otherwise, no one could see anything at this point.

“I, personally, do not have a death wish.” Stregobor smirked and raised his hands in defeat. “I promised to try to restrain Yennefer if she took the Arch-mistress out. No more, no less. Seems to me she’s still standing, which makes this her problem.” This was true. As long as the clatter from a million shards of ice shattering continued to echo through the valley, Tissaia was still fine.

“You can be such a dick,” Rita hissed low enough so that the students couldn’t hear.

“And I’ve never denied it.”

“Triss, don’t go down there. It should be over soon and we’ll go see what the damage is.”

Sure enough, it was only another minute before there was another loud bang and everything stopped.

* * *

There was a lot of disappointed laments in the great hall that evening as word got around about Rectoress de Vries and Yennefer of Vengerberg duelling it out. The girls had been told to keep their mouths shut, but still the duel was the talk of Aretuza, and even the other rectors had approached them and asked why they had not been invited.

“I’ll win next time,” Yennefer huffed at the table. When the cloud around them had cleared, Yennefer had been flat on her back, unable to move. Tissaia had been leaning heavily against a split staff, but had still been on her feet, so she obviously had claimed the victory. As Rita and Triss came to them, Tissaia collapsed against her friend. Two more minutes and she could have been the victor. Bah.

“You will not,” Tissaia was saying. “It was lovely to expel our chaos stores like that, but if we fight like that again, I don’t know if we will come out unscathed.”

“We didn’t this time.”

“Exactly.”

This didn’t go unnoticed by the occupants of the school either. Tissaia’s arm was in a sling for the night until the potion Triss had given her took full effect. Yennefer had harboured a split lip and Tissaia a cut along her brow. Both had a myriad of small cuts from the force of Tissaia’s ice shattering against them, but those were already taken care of. Yennefer’s leg did not need healed, but it was a bit sore. And though she tried to hide the limp, Tissaia had noticed and had whispered a few promises that had the raven-haired witch hoping that dinner was quick.

* * *

In the following weeks, the other rectors who had hands-on classes seemed quite keen to have Yennefer pop in for a guest visit. Tissaia allowed it, as she could tell it brought Yennefer great joy. She enjoyed how her protégé’s eyes danced as she told her all about a creature they caught and dissected. She also spoke as a guest about her court assignment, then at Tissaia’s sharp look of concern, assured her that it was okay - she had left some things out.

Yes, Yennefer was quite proud of herself and it was quite clear, leaving Tissaia sitting back and revelling in the change. Another couple of weeks passed with little incident, and though she could still be a bit crass and blunt when provoked, Yennefer had earned her spot within the walls of of the school. Oftentimes, Tissaia would come back to their rooms first, which meant Yennefer was finding things to keep herself busy. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to give Yen her own class. After all, she did let Rita teach, and no matter how many times she said something, the woman still insisted on teaching half-dressed. Though Rita had more patience for students she didn’t care for than Yennefer would, it might not be a half bad idea.

Then again, with the two of them already being so busy, they barely had any time for each other. This left Tissaia ecstatic for Yennefer, who was obviously very happy, but also left her with a dull ache from missing the constant presence that she had gotten used to. She'd have to think more on it.

* * *

It was midwinter when Rita had gathered her class in a ballroom and clapped her hands.

“Okay girls!” Rita announced, clearing the floor. “We’re going to teach you to dance today.”

“Are we missing the boys?” One girl asked after raising her hand, and she shifted nervously. Yennefer had been wondering the same thing. Thankfully Istredd had taught her to dance before she made a fool of herself. Who knew that the hunchback would have been the only one to excel in this lesson?

“We aren’t inviting them today – another day perhaps when we’re all more comfortable. How many of you know how to ballroom dance?” Three hands went up, and one seemed fairly nervous about it. Yennefer watched Rita pair the girls off, and noticed that she made sure to put friends together. She obviously cared deeply about her student’s wellbeing, which made her wonder what her own schooling experience would have been like.

Yennefer helped the pairs get situated and helped monitor their movements until everyone got the gist of it. Fola looked absolutely drained, and Yennefer made a note to ask her what was going on. She questioned if she was overthinking things when the girl shot her a warm smile, but then the same faraway look returned. She should make some extra time for her coming up. Maybe they could go raid the kitchens for some snacks and talk about how everything was going.

“Alright, so there’s another reason I didn’t invite the boys here today.” The girls all looked at each other curiously and a few whispered back and forth. “No matter which court you go to, there is more to it than just magic and politics. Each of us are women. Unless you get assigned to a Monarchy, we don’t get to strut in and make our opinion known, and our Kings often don't listen unless we either luck out, or have them wrapped around our finger.” Yennefer grimaced. Wasn’t that the truth.

“We – we don’t have to…?” One of the smaller girls looked like she was going to faint.

“No, child, try not to bed your king. Queens and princes don’t tend to look fondly on it. Your first court assignment is a sink or swim, but we do try to give you the skills to get where you need to go. How do I put this? Being able to dance well, without being stiff or overly restrictive, shows emotion. Nobles are very… well, if you can’t read a woman, you can’t trust her. And if you can’t trust her, she can’t advise you. And many of them will think think they can read us from a few rounds of dance. That's just how it is, most of the time. It doesn't need to make sense right now.” She looked to Yennefer for support, but all Yennefer could do was shrug.

“That’s pretty sound advice, as much as I hate to agree.”

“Sooooo, what are we supposed to do?” There was a long pause as both Rita and Yennefer contemplated how to explain it. Then, as if she had a great idea, Rita held her hand out to Yennefer.

“Yennefer, you play king? I’ll show the girls a few tricks.” Yennefer’s eyes narrowed and she imagined Rita’s form being pressed against her and hesitated. Half of a year ago, she would have been all for having this woman grind up against her, among other things.

**Tissaia?**

**What’s wrong?**

**Rita wants to show the girls a few “tricks” while dancing. But she wants me to be the King. Should I be concerned?**

**Probably, but it’s likely fine. I don’t care for the girls learning stuff like that, but remember how much of a disaster your class was because we didn’t teach them those kind of things. You were fine because of Istredd.**

**This is true.**

Yennefer nodded to Rita and placed her hand on the other woman’s waist, before taking the other hand in her own. She had no problem looping her arm around Yennefer’s shoulders to play with her hair.

Enchanted music started and Yennefer lead Margarita around the floor in sweeping spins. Rita didn’t tear her eyes from Yennefer, and Yennefer felt herself sinking into the woman’s gaze. She kept herself in the proper positioning, even when Rita’s hands wandered and her face tilted up invitingly. Spirits, Yennefer mused. This woman would be a force to be reckoned with if she wanted something. She was vaguely aware that the girls were staring at them, eyes wide.

Rita turned and flexed her body against Yennefer. This was becoming dangerous. What was this lesson? How to seduce literally anyone?

She swayed to the end of the song, and dragged Yennefer’s hand up her bare belly. Yennefer shuddered as finger ran over her bellybutton and travelled over the valley of her breasts to rest against her neck. Her head tipped back and her free hand came up to stroke Yennefer’s cheek. Her breath was warm against Yennefer’s mouth, so close and Yennefer was glad that she didn't close the distance.

Very softly, with a seductive smile, she whispered low enough that only Yennefer could hear. “ _You can thank me later_.” Yennefer blinked, and the enchantment started to fade away. Her bond came roaring back to life, and her eyes swivelled to the doorway, where there was a very, _very_ furious looking Rectoress.


	4. Chapter 4

Yennefer had never let go of anything as quickly as she let go of the woman in her arms. Tissaia was guarding the main exit, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Tissaia - it’s _not_ what it looks like.”

“Oh, it’s _exactly_ what it looks like. You, of all people, allowed Rita to enchant you.” Tissaia pushed herself off the doorframe and stalked into the room. The girls were watching the exchange with wide eyes. They weren’t entirely sure what was happening, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Tissaia approached Rita first, grabbed her by the chin, then pulled her down so that they were face to face. Rita was staring in mute terror. She had expected a reaction, but maybe not like this.

“If you _ever_ touch her again like you did today, even as a joke, I will drug you with a concoction so terrible that all of your hair will fall out and your tits will sag to your waist. Do you understand?”

It wasn’t that the woman had just threatened her. Nor was it that she had lay a very public claim on Yennefer. In fact, she may have found these things downright hilarious in normal circumstances. She had planned to, even.

No, as someone who paid very close attention to reading chaos, it was the very subtle shimmer that curled around Tissaia like a living cloak. The last time she seen this woman allow even a scrap of control to slip was the night that she had come to Aretuza.

The academy had been moaning for two full days from the onslaught of one of the worst storms of the century. And then, suddenly, one of the great doors had creaked open just a fraction before slamming shut again. Just enough to let in an impossibly small form who had found her own way to Aretuza's front step. Rita's first thought, after the shock of someone surviving outside in a storm like this, had been that this girl was far too young to have had a conduit moment. But she had, apparent by the pulsing chaos that arced and spun around her, unbridled. Their eyes had met briefly and Rita had been breathless at the unspoken challenge.

And then she was gone – whisked away by the Arch-mistress, and not to be seen for weeks.

When she was integrated into their classes, it had been obvious that the first thing she had been taught was to bottle and smother all of that raw talent and emotion. To control it and to never let it out. Rita had never seen even an iota of it again until now.

Oh, it was still controlled, but she could _see_ it. She could _feel_ it. It _dared_ her to retaliate. No. She had no death wishes today. She forced her body’s natural response down, and bowed her head (as much as she could) in deference.

“Forgive me, Arch-mistress. I was just trying to teach the girls a lesson.” When she was released, she couldn’t take the four, long, backward strides fast enough.

“And _you_ ,” she turned to Yennefer. “You will be coming with me and we will be having our discussion behind closed doors.” Yennefer sucked her lips into a tight line and nodded in agreement. Oh man, Tissaia was _pissed_ , and though it was kind of hot, it had been a very long time since goosebumps had trickled up her arms from alarm. Her adrenaline responded in kind. She had no clue what was going to happen.

“Girls,” Tissaia snapped, having temporarily forgot the small, huddled group while seeing red. “This is an excellent example of what happens when you lay hands on something that isn’t yours. I suggest you take this lesson to heart. _Dismissed_.” The girls practically ran from the hall, a few daring to steal a final look backward.

The trip back to their chambers had been silent, with fury absolutely rolling from the Rectoress as she stormed through the halls. Yennefer’s legs were longer than Tissaia’s, but she was practically running to keep up. She did not dare fall behind. The Rectoress did not need to slow for anything or anyone. Those they passed either skirted down other passages, or pressed themselves to the wall. Probably in prayer, Yennefer thought, because she was pretty close to doing the same.

When they reached their chambers, Tissaia slammed and locked it with such ferocity that Yennefer half expected it to fall apart when released. She opened her mouth to try to explain again.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I didn’t think I needed to be concerned, but obviously that’s not the case. I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t come to find you. Did you know that our bond had cut out? Can you even begin to imagine what it felt like?” Yennefer just shut her mouth and closed her eyes. She could feel Tissaia trying to smother what she was feeling, but conflicting emotions were spiralling so quickly that Yennefer could hardly keep up. Doubt. Fear. Anger. Jealousy.

“Wait, are you fucking _aroused_?” The words escaped her mouth before she could think them through, and she was shoved roughly against the door. Tissaia’s smaller form held her there with surprising strength. Yennefer’s breaths came out short and quick as she tried to hide her reaction.

“Do you think I don’t have eyes, Yennefer? Do you think I just arrived at the end? I saw her touch you. I watched you react.” Her hand brushed down and grabbed between her legs, which caused Yennefer to whimper and try to shift closer. “Oh? What’s this then? Is there something that you want, _piglet_?”

Yennefer bit her lip. Now might not be the best time, but-

“You want me to punish you.” It was more of a statement than a question. Yennefer defiantly met Tissaia’s glower.

 **Yes.** Tissaia just kept studying her with narrowed eyes. **Please?**

**Not good enough.**

**Tissaia…**

**Don’t use my name. And don’t talk to me like this. You want to be succumb to charms made for commoners, then you can speak like one.**

“Rectoress. _Please_.” A sharp, quick breath drew through flared nostrils as Tissaia studied Yennefer.

**Take off your clothes. Then lay right there on the floor.**

Yennefer’s eyes widened and her breath hitched, but did as she was told. She lowered herself onto the rug in front of the hearth. Tissaia looked down at her, eyes raking hungrily over her form but she did not move to undress herself. She approached and used her foot to push Yennefer into the position that she wanted, then roughly moved her arms so that she was leaning back on her hands.

**If I see your hands move from where they are without my permission, this will stop. Do you understand?**

Nod.

**Do not touch me. Do not try to kiss me. Do not initiate anything unless I tell you. And as a reminder, do not speak to me like I am speaking to you. You may earn that right back when we are done. Do you understand?**

Another nod.

**Good.**

Tissaia moved and came back with one of the candles from around the room. Yennefer forgot to breath.

**Are you ready?**

“Yes.” A pause. “Yes, _Rectoress_.” Tissaia very tentatively poured wax along Yennefer’s stomach. She hissed in response and her hips lifted, but she made sure to keep her hands pressed firmly in place.

Tissaia’s fingers must have been charmed. As they trailed behind wherever the wax went, a freezing sensation was left in their wake. Yennefer tried to stay quiet, but Tissaia became more bold with the candle. She searched out areas that her charge could not resist crying out at. The inside of her thighs would quiver delightfully as the wax ran along them. Yennefer sighed in satisfaction as Tissaia ran her frozen fingers over each of her nipples before releasing the spell. The Arch-mistress blew the candle out and put it aside.

**Who do you belong to, Yennefer?**

“Y-You,” Yennefer panted, and Tissaia leaned in close, drawing in the side of Yennefer’s throat and suckling hard enough to leave a bruise. She ran her fingers over it, eyes narrowing, and Yennefer couldn’t help but think that the other woman looked fairly pleased with herself.

**That’s right. You’re mine. And now everyone knows it.**

Her hand snaked down and brushed against Yennefer's folds teasingly, then disappeared. The younger sorceress whimpered and shifted, but still did not move. She watched as Tissaia moved away and stripped herself from her dress, before seating herself along the chaise that she knew Yennefer so favoured.

**Don’t move.**

Tissaia reached down between her legs and touched herself. She did not pull her gaze from Yennefer, who in turn could not pull hers from watching what Tissaia’s hand was doing. She savoured how the younger woman fidgeted and swallowed thickly as Tissaia rubbed in controlled, languid circles. Her middle finger dipped down to her center, entering enough to cause herself to gasp in pleasure, but then retreated back to repeat it all over again. As her pleasure began to mount, her ministrations became more vigorous. She savoured how Yennefer struggled to stay where she was, and the myriad of emotions that play across her features.

As Yennefer’s desire and dismay flooded through their connection, her own breath became erratic. Her fingers stilled against herself as she shuddered and came, not bothering to stifle the soft, breathy cry that tumbled from her. She could feel the aftershocks of the orgasm pulse beneath her fingers. When she opened her eyes, Yennefer was staring at her with such longing that she felt her resolve waver.

**Come here. Don’t use anything but your mouth. And don’t touch yourself.**

She crawled towards Tissaia, and as told, kept her hands on the floor in front of her. Tissaia wrapped a hand through Yennefer’s hair and threw a leg over her shoulder. She let out a moan as Yennefer descended on her. For someone who was supposed to be in the process of being punished, the girl was projecting an awful amount of delight. The things she could do with her mouth, however, were absolutely sinful.

Even without being touched with Yennefer’s hands, another climax began to climb rapidly and Tissaia felt herself cresting. When she came crashing down the other side, Yennefer was still between her legs.

Yennefer had slipped though, and had reached up to touch Tissaia’s leg. The Rectoress grabbed her wrist.

**I told you not to touch.**

“I couldn’t help myself.” Tissaia’s eyes narrowed, and she hauled the girl to her feet.

 **On the bed. On your knees.** Yennefer pulled herself onto the bed and did as she was told. **You obviously haven’t learned your lesson yet.**

* * *

Tissaia was tucked into Yennefer’s arm much later, dragging her nails up and down up her stomach. She smiled softly at the way the younger woman shuddered under her touch.

“What did she say to you at the end?”

“That I would thank her later,” Yennefer whispered softly, pressing a kiss against the Rectoress’ brow. Tissaia arched her head back and captured her mouth in a kiss. The hand that had been teasing Yennefer, came up and cupped her cheek softly.

“Of course. Rita was playing a game, and we both played right into it. Let’s not bring it up again unless we’re planning on doing something terrible to her.” Yennefer’s eyes widened and she laughed, Tissaia not far behind. When they were done, there was a softness as they stared at one another.

“Tissaia?” The Rectoress quirked an eyebrow, but waited patiently. “I am yours. You do know that, right?” Something flashed in the older woman’s eyes. It was possessive and beautiful and entirely for her alone.

“That’s good, because I don’t plan on sharing or giving you up to anyone.”

* * *

“Oh good, you’re still alive.”

Fola greeted her, even though she had seen Yennefer in passing over the last few days and therefor, knew that her mentor had not perished at the Rectoress’ hand. In fact, there was quite the gossip around Aretuza that it was quite the opposite. Yennefer just smirked and put the tray of food she was carrying down between them.

“What can I say? I was always her favourite.” They sat quietly as they slathered honey onto bread, and helped themselves to the fruit assortment on the tray. “Fola. Why are you skipping out on the dance lessons? Is everything okay? This isn’t like you.”

“Sure,” Fola replied. “I just… I didn’t want to dance. They’re not mandatory at this point anyway. And ascension is coming up soon. Who knows what will happen, right? I just want to enjoy my last few weeks here.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried. You’ve done splendidly. More-so than I did, that’s for sure.” Fola’s eyes crinkled with humour. They sat in silence for a long time after they were done eating, Yennefer studying the girl as she stared and fidgeted with her hands, lost in thought.

“Miss Yennefer? Did you ever get teased while you were here?”

“Are the girls giving you trouble?”

“Hm,” Fola hummed, noncommittally. “Girls are girls. You know how they are. It’s so competitive, so they get snappy now and then. It’s nothing. It’s all talk and soon it won’t matter.” Yennefer hummed in reply. There were a lot of unprompted reassurances for it being nothing. On the other hand, she didn’t want to overstep, so she considered her own schooling.

“They were never cruel to my face, but I have a fairly good idea what they said behind closed doors. Maybe they left me alone because they thought I was crazy, but I always felt very excluded from them, even with my friend that I’ve told you about. I spent most of my evenings with Istredd when he was here, and if not with him, alone in my chambers.”

“Ah. I guess we are pretty similar after all. Well, except I don't keep a boytoy on the side.” Yennefer’s eyebrow quirked.

“It was overrated.” The two of them laughed then at Istredd’s expense before Yennefer continued. “I won’t bother you again about ballroom, but you best not be late for your afternoon class. And Fola? You will tell me if the girls get out of hand in the meantime?”

“Sure,” Fola agreed with a bright smile, and Yennefer silently commended her on how well she could tell a lie.

* * *

It was that night when Yennefer sat straight up in bed, sweat drenching her forehead. Tissaia was already dressed and looked back at her lover.

“Go back to sleep,” Yennefer was already dressing though, and began to tug on her last boot so she could follow the Rectoress out.

“Something is wrong.”

“Could you feel that through the bond?” Yennefer nodded, but then hesitated.

“Yes and no. It’s something I feel too. Something nagging at me. Something isn’t right.” Recognition flared in Tissaia’s gaze, and though she tried to clamp it down, it was too late. "Fola," Yennefer breathed, suddenly fearful and moving much quicker.

Tissaia had tried to convince her to stay, but as soon as the only student that Yennefer frankly gave a shit about, there was no dissuading to be done. And though they knew they needed to be on the third floor, thanks to the wards, there was little else to go on. When they were unsure of which hall to turn down, Tissaia had frowned even deeper when they decided to split ways.

Yennefer was the one to find her. Two Ban Ard boys were holding her down as she kicked. She had obviously given them quite the fight, as she was still trying to force her way up. One of their hands pressed roughly against her mouth as his other tried to hold a leg down. There was a lilting laughter that was far too high to be anything but a girl, and another voice chiding that they couldn’t even handle one freak. Yennefer realized with a sickening lurch that her _fucking classmates_ were involved in this.

The laughter stopped when the boy on top of Fola went flying and landed with an alarming crack against the wall. She muttered a spell and grabbed the second by his collar, and when he was turned she moved her hand to his throat, squeezing as hard as she could. Surprise etched his features as he found that he couldn’t move. She glared, and then slammed him so forcefully into the ground that his eyes rolled back into his head and he stopped moving. They were drunk, she realized. If not for the smell, she would have known by the ease in which she had dispatched the two young men with.

The girls were already gone, but they could be dealt with later as well. She dropped beside Fola, who was curled up and sobbing silently. She pulled the shaking girl into her arms, who tried to push her away, until she realized who it was.

“It’s me,” Yennefer whispered, over and over. “I’m right here.”

“You came.”

“Of course we did,” she soothed, and Fola’s form sagged before she began to sob uncontrollably. “Fola, I need to know. You obviously put up quite the fight. But did we make it in time? Did they-“ Fola shook her head.

“N – no. They just had got me down when you showed up. Why would they want to hurt me? I haven’t done anything to them.”

“Because people are cruel, Fola. You’re smart. You’re pretty. People don’t like that.”

“My face is a mess,” Fola whimpered. “When I wouldn't drink with them, they called me a scar-faced, bitch. They said they were going to make sure the rest of me matched!” Yennefer closed her eyes and rocked the two of their forms back and forth.

“Oh, you silly girl. You’ve always worried about your scars. I think you’re perfect just the way you are, but for what it’s worth, they will be gone one way or another when ascension comes. You can’t magic away incompetence. You can’t magic in a better personality. You will have everything, do you understand?” Fola stifled a few more sobs and Yennefer continued to rock. The way the boys had held her down, the way they had laughed. They had wanted to hurt her – but how badly?

“Yennefer. Fola.” Rita came sliding down beside them. Yennefer passed Fola’s form over to Rita, who practically crushed the girl against her chest while muttering reassurances against her.

“I need to take care of something.” The corners of her vision were getting blurry.

“Tissaia’s trying to find the girls now.” Rita’s gaze shifted to the boys, who were still not moving. “Yennefer. You need to stay put.” Yennefer ignored her name being called behind her.

**Yennefer, you need to calm down.**

**Did you find them.**

**Yennefer, stop.**

**You better find them before I do.**

And then Yennefer learned something new. She could slam their telepathy shut on her own, and she did just that as she rounded the corner and nearly ran over one of the very students she was looking for.

She grabbed the little witch by the hair and dragged her out onto the nearest parapet. The girl flailed and screamed and begged, but Yennefer said nothing as she pushed the girl over the edge so she could see how far down it was. Realizing that if Yennefer let go, she could very well fall, the girl began to scream louder, and tried to grab onto anything that might help steady her. Yennefer narrowed her eyes. This was _supposed_ to be one of Fola’s friends. The one who had never had a conduit moment and who shouldn’t even be here.

**YENNEFER, WHATEVER IT IS YOU ARE DOING, STOP.**

_Tissaia_. She never sounded like this. She almost sounded… _scared_. And what the hell _was_ she doing? She was planning to maim a student beyond recognition, is what she was doing.

 _Fuck_. She had been doing so well, but now she was out of control without her even trying to stop it. There was the disgusting sulfurous odor that came with burnt hair. The shrieks had turned to a painful cries, and the stones around them were shimmering from heat. The girl wailed as she tried to push herself back up the side, while subsequently trying not to touch the scorching stone.

She hauled the girl back and shoved her away, back onto the safety of the balcony that had not yet suffered her wrath.

“Run,” she suggested coldly, “Before I can’t stop myself.” The girl scrambled and ran. Yennefer’s attention had already turned back to herself. She flexed her fingers and let her chaos manifest. Perhaps if she gave in a little and _then_ meditated, she could control it from becoming destructive. More than it already was.

The fleeing student almost ploughed into Tissaia, and immediately the girl began to snivel and stutter that Yennefer had tried to _kill_ her.

“Idiot girl, if she was going to kill you, you’d already be dead. To my office. You can sit with those injuries until I arrive.” The girl, perhaps realizing the extent of the trouble she was in, nodded and wailed and continued to run.

When the Rectoress stepped into the archway, she stopped immediately, heart sinking and adrenaline rising. Yennefer’s eyes were closed, arms extended. Orange flames twisted and coiled and licked high into the air around her. It was beautiful and powerful and dangerous all rolled into one, but it needed to be stopped. At this rate, Yennefer was going to demolish the parapet, if not the adjoining floors, with or without her still on it.

 _Cold._ Yennefer felt it in her feet first, and then her legs. She opened her eyes and met Tissaia’s determined gaze. She looked perfect, as always, save the sweat that had began to beaded against her brow in exertion.

**Yennefer.**

**Tissaia.**

**Welcome back. Can you reign some of this in for me?** Yennefer frowned and took a deep breath. She shook her head no. Fola was still too fresh in her mind. **Fola is okay,** Tissaia pressed, **and everyone involved will be punished accordingly. You know this.**

**But-**

**Yennefer, you need to let it go. This will _never_ happen to her again.** Yennefer sighed and her chaos ebbed a little bit. Tissaia was right.

“Miss Yennefer?” Fola came into view then, with Rita right behind her. Her eyes were puffy, cheeks splotched from emotion, and there was a big ugly bruise already forming against her throat. Otherwise, she looked more surprised than anything. She went to take a step forward, but Rita grabbed her arm and yanked her back so quickly that she almost fell. Yennefer scowled. Of course.

“She’s right,” Yennefer muttered. “I’m too dangerous to be around.”

“Don’t approach her until she says it’s okay, was what I was _going_ to say.” Yennefer did a double take, not expecting the retort. Fola was just watching her with that same look of reverence she always had. Rita was studying her with neither concern or judgment. Tissaia – well, she was Tissaia. In between spells to stop the entire balcony from succumbing, she was shooting Yennefer an exasperated stare because _fuck_ , she was tired and drained and fighting her own battle in response.

Yennefer closed her eyes and concentrated on her connection with the Rectoress. Frustration. Concern. Love. Rationality. She explored the battle going on within her partner, normally so carefully restrained. It whispered and promised and wanted nothing more than to join with the woman who was letting her chaos run free. We could destroy _everything_ , it urged. And Yennefer stood in silent shock because she had never taken the time to consider that Tissaia de Vries had her own demons to fight.

She could feel Tissaia’s composure shift. She studied the way that the other sorceress didn’t force it down, but encouraged it to settle and recede. The way she silently soothed it. Promising without specifics. One day, she conveyed, but nothing more condemning than that. She could feel her own chaos shift into something less vicious. Curious. Longing.

The two of them were going to have a long, overdue chat on chaos, Yennefer decided. If Tissaia could reason with hers, why couldn’t she?

She took several deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out. And finally – _finally_ \- in response her flames ebbed and disappeared with a sputter. As her chaos curled up and tucked away of its own accord, Yennefer decided with wry humour that perhaps they could burn the world together another day. There was a pleasant hum of agreement, instead of the normal bite of dispute. And just like her chaos reacted to Tissaia, she could feel Tissaia’s react to hers. The Arch-mistress was staring at her with wide, surprised eyes.

Perhaps this comfortable agreement between sorceress and chaos was not normal, then. That would explain why they hadn’t addressed this much earlier.

She approached Tissaia first, cupping a cheek and pressing their foreheads together.

“ _Thank you,_ ” she breathed, feeling the exhaustion and relief share between the two of them. Tissaia said nothing, but shut her eyes and smiled softly. When they parted, she turned to the other two who were quietly watching the exchange.

“It’s okay now,” she offered, flexing her fingers. Fola tore from Rita and took the few steps to throw her arms around her middle and bury her head in the crook of her shoulder. Rita didn’t move, but the way she smiled was comforting. Realizing the girl was not letting go of her anytime soon, Yennefer wrapped her arms around her and looked back to Tissaia, who was watching fondly.

**Do you finally get it? We’re all here, Yennefer. Not just me.**

_**Yes.** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was gentle, the way that Tissaia shut the door to their chambers before sagging against it. Her head was bowed and hands were unmoving, still pressed against the rough wood as though she was rooted to the spot. Yennefer was already up and beside her, hand tentatively reaching for a shoulder. The Rectoress leaned into the touch but did not turn.

“Everything okay?” Tissaia nodded. Yennefer stepped closer and forced the woman to move into her arms. She seemed… _miserable_.

“It’s one thing to transform our students who are not suitable for ascension,” she finally said. “It is something else entirely to do it as punishment. It makes no difference in the end, I suppose. But the spell to pacify girls who will become conduits just doesn’t work in this situation. It can be… _difficult_.

It was the first time that Yennefer had seen the Arch-mistress show how the less pleasant part of her role affected her, and though part of her wanted to stay quiet and let the Arch-mistress continue, she couldn’t help herself. “She? Only one of the them?”

“Glacella’s family paid her tuition in full, and has made frequent donations to support Aretuza. The more families that buy their way in, the more my hands are tied. I _cannot_ make her a conduit. Even if her family agreed - which honestly, I don’t think they’d care - it would make for a bad example to the others. Makes them feel less invincible. They know well enough that naturally, their daughters would almost never make it to ascension. Knowing they won’t just be made into conduits… well to some, it is the deciding factor on how full our coffers are.”

“So what does that mean? Nothing happens? Are you telling me she was going to ascend all along?” Yennefer closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew Aretuza was going through a rough patch, but this _had_ to be a joke.

“That’s right. But at least now she can be expelled. Silver lining of this whole mess, I suppose.” It wasn’t Tissaia’s fault, Yennefer reminded herself. Everything was one big game of politics, so why would this be any different? Instead, she reminisced on the lecture that she had received about sending girls out that weren’t suited. She recalled (spirits, how long ago had that been?) being reprimanded that their actions reflected on Tissaia, not themselves. She had forgotten that lecture almost immediately, or perhaps she had just not cared. Yennefer felt her cheeks flush in shame. How much of a headache her antics must have caused.

“Her family has three days to collect her,” Tissaia explained. “They have been made aware of the situation. If no one comes, she will be given ten marks and her belongings. She will need to find her own way home. Or not home. It’s up to her.”

“Tissaia, ten marks? She knows nothing of travel. That money will be gone one way or another by the next town. She’ll never-“

“I am aware.”

“Even if she’s collected, the continent is in the middle of a war.”

“Yennefer.”

“What?”

“I am _aware_. I have been Arch-Mistress for longer than you’ve been alive and I have never – _never_ – had to condemn a student like I have tonight. Please, love, save your sense of justice for Stregobor. Convincing him to punish his boys at all will be a battle in itself, and that meeting starts in twenty minutes.”

* * *

Yennefer had expected a full-blown Chapter meeting, not just the three of them crammed into a tiny office that was brimming with every trinket and gadget that Yennefer could ever imagine.

“You have an opinion,” Stregobor commented, conjuring three mugs and a kettle. Yennefer shook her head and tried to train her eyes on her desk. Be polite, she kept telling herself, but the sorcerer apparently was having none of it. “Oh, humour me, Yennefer. I’m quite curious. I don’t believe we’ve ever had the chance to speak without appearances to be kept up.” Tissaia showed no reaction, and just took her proffered cup of tea and sat quietly.

“Well, I _heard_ you had quite the setup in Blaviken. I was just observing that you don’t seem to have the same here.”

“Ah, well perhaps can meet under less solemn circumstances next time. At that time, I will be sure to adequately dress the room. Or perhaps I won’t. After all, I wouldn’t want to provoke anyone.” He lit his pipe, drew, and leaned back with a satisfied smirk, directed at the Rectoress.

“I do believe anyone, including myself, would choose a beautiful woman to serve them over a senile old weasel that purposely torments his guests.” Stregobor laughed then, and even Tissaia’s lip quirked. Yennefer thought that perhaps there was something in the tea. Yes. That had to be it.

“Well, let’s not beat around the bush, ladies. Both boys will be stripped of their magic and banished from Ban Ard.” Yennefer opened her mouth to say something, but Tissaia cut her off.

**Careful.**

Yennefer studied the wizard in front of her. Stregobor had levelled his gaze at her. Why her? She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there was _something_ brewing alright. “And?” That seemed like a safe reply, and the accompanying grimace told her she nailed it on the head.

“The Nilfgaardian forces plan to take Thanedd.”

“When?” Tissaia’s shoulders had tensed and her gaze was sharp. “And when were you planning on telling me?”

“We have discussed its inevitability for _months_. But, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve known less than a day. It seems we have, at most, a fortnight. That is taking into account how quickly they can cover ground. With that said, the punishment of two boys who cannot control themselves is a very small price to pay, if it means we can secure your assistance. I – no, forgive me, for it isn’t just me - we _all_ need Yennefer to fight.”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Tissaia interjected before Yennefer could say anything. “She’s not ready. She would be better suited to guard those we evacuate.” Yennefer frowned. She was right here. Shouldn’t it be her decision on what she can and can’t do?

“I disagree. She _is_ ready for this. If Thanedd falls, it _cannot_ fall to Nilfgaard.” Panic that was not her own, flooded through their bond and smothered her own rising frustrations. Her losing control was the only thing she could think of that would make Tissaia react like this, and with a sickening realization, she knew where Stregobor’s request was going.

“You mean for me to destroy it,” Yennefer whispered. “If our wards do not hold, you want me to burn an entire island to the ground.”

“Precisely. I tracked the portal from where you came, Yennefer. I saw the destruction you left on the shore. We would make preparations to make it easier for you, so you needn’t expend yourself so thoroughly. But we need your chaos to-“

Tissaia’s chair legs scraped against the stone, interrupting him.

“You ask too much,” she hissed. “Have I not done enough? Have I not given enough? You would take the only refuge I have found in my entire, long life, and have me watch her incinerate not only Aretuza, but herself as well?”

“Tissaia,” Stregobor tried to reason, unusually gentle from how Yennefer knew him to be. “I would not ask the girl to sacrifice herself. It will take the two of you. Whoever does this needs to be powerful, compatible, and understand how important it is to follow through. Name a pair better suited for this and I will pursue it.” Tissaia’s expression was unimpressed, but nothing more. Yennefer wondered what Stregobor would say if he could feel what Yennefer could. It was a mixture of anger, fear, grief. She could practically feel Tissaia ripping through her own mind in search for a different solution. _Any_ different solution.

 **Love.** Tissaia’s inner battle instantly ceased, for the time. **We’ll figure it out. Take the deal before there isn’t one and we get stuck doing it anyway.**

**No.**

**Tissaia, _please._** Stregobor was leaned back in his desk, watching the two quietly as they hashed it out.

“Fine,” Tissaia finally snapped. “But I will not go in blind. Every single preparation, every single spell, every single body that will be here – I want to know _all_ of it. If I don’t agree with something, it will change. If we need something, you will make it happen.”

Stregobor smiled. “Consider it done.”

Not up for discussing trivial matters any further, Tissaia ground out that they would discuss everything the next day, and dismissed herself from the office. Yennefer practically ran after her, but didn't miss the apologetic look that followed her.

* * *

The trip back was a quiet one. When they entered their rooms, Tissaia went straight to her chair and threw herself in it. Yennefer mused that if it possible, the other woman would have deflated into nothing right then and there. She did not say anything, but went and drew a bath. When it was ready, she returned to the main area and kneeled in front of the Rectoress.

“I drew a bath.” Tissaia nodded absently. “For both of us. Come?” The two stared at each other until Tissaia gave another nod, and let Yennefer lead her to the bathroom. She undressed herself, then slipped the Arch-mistress out of her own clothes.

She stepped in, then held a hand out and maneuvered Tissaia to sit between her legs. The Rectoress let her head sink back against Yennefer’s shoulder and let out a soft sigh of pleasure.

Well, it was something.

“Talk to me,” Yennefer whispered against her cheek. She reached for Tissaia hands and entwined their fingers together. This was nice. Why hadn’t they done this before?

“I don’t know what to say, Yennefer.”

“Well, I have a lot to say… but I can shut up if you want.” There was a long pause before Tissaia murmured that no, Yennefer could talk. “Good. I have no intention of burning myself out. I understand what he is asking for. I know it’s not ideal. I’ve never been a martyr, and you know this. I don’t plan on being one now.” They sat in silence for a couple of long, drawn minutes. Suddenly, Tissaia turned and shifted so that she was straddling Yennefer.

Tissaia's fingers trailed along Yennefer’s forehead, and traced the curve of her cheeks and jaw. Her eyes followed her fingers wherever they went, and continued to follow them as they touched her shoulder, her collar bone, her hair. Finally she looked at Yennefer, eyes almost watery.

“I have no doubt you can do this without dying,” she whispered. “And I know I can’t lock you up and keep you safe. Not forever. But, Yennefer, I-“ she pressed her lips against the corner of Yennefer’s mouth, intending to pull away to finish, but the younger woman captured her mouth. Gods, she was beautiful. When they pulled away, Yennefer cupped Tissaia’s face in her hands.

“You don’t need to say it, Tissaia,” Yennefer whispered. “It’s the same for me. The very idea of losing you is unbearable. You are _everything_.” Tissaia was gone then, her head dipped into Yennefer’s neck. But Yennefer did not miss the sharp, shaky intake, or the few, subtle quiver of her shoulders.

Tissaia de Vries was fucking crying, and Yennefer wondered if she had just found something that was possibly worse than death. She was equally parts glad and disappointed that there wasn’t someone to murder in retribution.

“Let me in,” she whispered against Tissaia’s ear instead. The woman still had her side of the bond locked down, as if she was in a siege. Her form stiffened. Did she honestly think that she wouldn’t notice?

Tissaia’s side of the bond opened, slowly, almost nervously, and Yennefer breathed deeply, basking in it.

Fear. So much of it, that it was nearly suffocating.

Fear that she would lose Yennefer.

Fear that Yennefer would lose control.

Fear for Aretuza and her students.

Fear over losing control.

Fear of fear – an emotion that she had buried centuries prior and had never let in again.

Yennefer picked through the torrent of uncertainties. She pushed back whatever she could muster. She shared the reverence that she held for Tissaia. The sparks of joy whenever the woman came to visit her while healing. The comfort she garnered from their bonding, and the thrill of it when she found out that Tissaia would be _hers_. The elation when she realized that finally she had found what she had torn through life looking for. The waves of pleasure that only Tissaia could elicit from her.

Though she did still not have any great love for Aretuza, she shared how important the academy was to her, even if it was only because it was Tissaia’s world. And slowly, that fear that Tissaia was harbouring ebbed and waned. It was still there, but nowhere near overwhelming.

Tissaia’s mouth found Yennefer’s, and she kissed her deeply. Yennefer’s hands explored the form on her, and was dragging her mouth almost agonizingly slow across Tissaia’s shoulder when she felt the familiar flare of the Rectoress' arousal across their bond.

**Touch me.**

The request was so soft, so affectionate, that Yennefer couldn’t help but feel a swell of tenderness. Her hand dipped between Tissaia’s legs and pressed against her. Tissaia gave a quiet whine as she moved her hips against Yennefer’s hand, imploring her to enter her. Not in the mood to tease her, Yennefer pushed two fingers into her. Tissaia moved against her, small sighs escaping her each time she rocked.

Their connection was still wide open, and Yennefer cleared everything from her mind other than the woman and memories of their time together. She was remembering a touch here, a nip there, the way it felt to have Tissaia between her legs.

She basked in the memory of how it felt to watch Tissaia touch herself, or when Tissaia punished her. She focused on the times that they had tumbled in between the sheets and made love, pressed so tightly together that they could hardly tell where one of them ended and the other began. Tissaia’s memories responded in kind, arousal climbing and rolling until a tremendous wave of blinding pleasure washed over her. Yennefer groaned as she felt the woman tighten and release around her, and savoured how Tissaia held her just a little bit tighter as she came down from her high.

* * *

They were sitting by the fire much later, dressed in robes and drying from their bath. Yennefer’s head was in Tissaia’s lap, and Tissaia was absently running her fingers through her hair.

“Can we talk about what happened the other night?” Tissaia’s hand stilled, but only for a moment. Yennefer watched her as she very clearly gave some thought to what she was going to say.

“I’m not sure it is something that can be discussed as much as felt. Chaos is fluid, Yennefer. It changes and distorts and adapts to its environment. There are two types of mages – those that use chaos, and those that harbour it. When we have our conduit moments, we become the latter. We still channel it, but that initial chaos we use during that very first moment stays with us forever. Over time, it becomes sentient by absorbing our darkest desires – the ones we push down right along with it.”

“Why aren’t we taught that?”

“Even if it could be taught, it’s considered a theory. Anyone who does not have a conduit moment – or a significant one – will not feel their chaos as keenly as we do. So any time that this has come up, it’s been knocked down just as quickly. Do you agree with it?”

“I don’t know if my conduit moment was big enough to warrant such a fiend, but it makes sense, I guess.”

“You’ve never fully appreciated the effort and talent that it takes to cast a portal. There are sorcerers that can’t cast them until they’re half a century, and many use a conduit item to help them.”

“Tissaia?”

“Hm?”

“What was yours like? Your conduit moment. You know mine.”

There was a long silence.

“I was eight.”

“EIGHT! You hadn’t even hit puberty.”

“I had a little brother, half my age,” she continued, lost in the memory and staring at the fire across the room. “It was a particularly rough winter, and he broke his leg quite badly falling from our wood pile. He should have died, but he didn’t.”

“Oh, did you accidentally heal him?”

“No – my mother did.” Yennefer’s eyes widened. “This was before sterilization was part of ascending. She had met my father and settled down, retiring from her life of magic. But they settled in a small mining village that was far from keen on magic. In fact, they were known as witch-hunters. I’ll never know why my parents chose to live there of all places.”

“So what happened?”

“When they realized that my brother could only have survived by magic, they waited until night fell and they lit our house on fire. My Dad and brother were lost, but my mother was able to get me out in time.” Yennefer opened her mouth to say something else, but shut it. Tissaia’s fingers brushed along Yennefer’s brow and stilled, her eyes slipping shut.

When Yennefer blinked, she had been torn from the comfort of their chambers. The smoke from the house filled her nostrils, along with burnt flesh and screams. The villagers – nothing short of a mob – had a woman and her young daughter surrounded. The girl was small with wild curls and big, confused eyes. The sorceress, beautiful and with a small frame, held one hand out while the other kept the girl held tight behind her.

There was something wrong. There was no way Tissaia’s mother shouldn’t been able to take the mob. But was she hurt? She was struggling. It was taking everything she had to keep Tissaia behind her, which shouldn’t have been hard to do.

**Demetrium.**

Yennefer swallowed thickly, and the fury that rose in her pricked at the corners of her eyes. They finally caught her, and Yennefer watched in horror as they brutally slaughtered her. Even in death, she had done everything she could to keep herself between Tissaia and the mob.

“Grab the girl! She’ll be a witch too!” Tissaia wailed as her mother’s body was shoved to the side, and again as she was torn from below. She flailed impressively, enough that it took two men to force her to her knees. They forced her to look at her mother, a final cruelty before they planned to drive a sword between her tiny shoulder blades.

Looking at her must have been what done it. The traumatic cry that tore from her was raw. It should never have come from anyone, let alone a child. Her whole family was gone and she knew it. She sagged, and Yennefer's breath began to catch as she watched the slab of iron rise in preparation.

Then, a sudden stillness, as if the world was holding its breath. As time resumed, there was an explosion of chaos that rocked the very trees. Every fibre of Yennefer’s being sparked to life in response.

Whoever had hold of Tissaia didn’t even have a chance to scream. His body was so violently thrown back, along with two others that were too close, they landed in pieces. Red. So much red. Against the winter ground, it was bright and violent.

But there was no time to assess the damage. Yennefer’s vision went white as the snow around them lifted and swirled and the yelling became screams of pain and terror. Yennefer couldn’t see what was happening, but could hear everything. Everyone was dying, and as the cries disappeared, the only thing she could hear was the sound of snow and ice.

And then suddenly it was _gone_.

Everything was ice. Ice and blood. The trees that still stood, arced painfully away under the pressure. The house that had been engulfed in flames looked like it had been frozen in time. What was left of the bodies, broken and thrown around like rag-dolls, were either up in the branches or buried under frozen drifts.

And in the epicenter of it all, the only thing not buried and frozen, was a little girl on her knees. Her body was curled up on itself and shaking from the aftermath of what she had done. Yennefer made to move towards her, but the memory was already fading. When the warmth of the chambers returned, Tissaia’s eyes were shut and she was taking even, controlled breaths. She pushed herself up and took the Rectoress’ face in her hands.

“Tissaia…” she breathed. “I- I don't even know what to say.” Tissaia just nodded, and when her eyes opened, the same even look that Yennefer was used to had taken over her features. “It’s okay to feel, you know.”

“I do feel, Yennefer. I feel very deeply. But there is no point in dwelling on the past. And there’s no sense in letting it get out of control.”

“What happened after? Did someone come for you? Like you did with me?”

“No,” Tissaia said. “It’s very difficult to collect girls who don’t stay put. Right after, I started walking towards Thanedd. My mother had told me stories of Aretuza, and I figured that was where I needed to go. I rode a good distance with a merchant and his granddaughter. I stole a horse somewhere along the way. I ended up killing twice more, and I clawed my way here through a storm so severe that I should have been washed away without a trace. But my chaos protected me and I made it. _Against all odds_.” Yennefer sat, blinking at Tissaia.

“You’re incredible.” Tissaia just arched an eyebrow at her and gave her a small, forced smile.

“I am aware.” And Yennefer huffed and rolled her eyes in response, which made Tissaia's indifferent mask melt and be replaced with a fond smile. “Let’s go to bed, love. We’re going to have a long couple of weeks ahead of us.”


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you everyone so, _so_ much for all of the awesome reviews - they make my day whenever I see one pop up! This is the final chapter in this series, and I'm looking forward to playing catch up on all the awesome fics I have been missing for the last week or so.

* * *

If they had thought themselves busy during Sodden, their definition was redefined over the following two weeks. The battle prior had been a few days of hasty preparation, but the few evenings had still been their own, at least. This time, there had been several nights, long after the midnight toll, where one of them would go collect the other from somewhere around Aretuza. Their days were spent splitting and overseeing tasks, and their passings were full of quick recaps of what hadn’t been shared throughout their telepathic connection.

It was the tenth day when Yennefer came in after one of Tissaia’s classes, peeking both ways out into the hall before she shut the door and sagged against it with a dramatic exhale.

“Yennefer,” Tissaia greeted. “What’s going on?” Yennefer didn’t answer, and the Rectoress watched her, bemused, as she strode across the room. “Ah, there’s no time for this.” It only came out half-chiding though, and she didn’t stop the other sorceress from grabbing her by the waist and maneuvering them so her back was pressed against one of her storage shelves.

“Make time,” Yennefer breathed against her throat, and Tissaia just sighed in response and tilted her head, allowing her assailant to pepper kisses down her throat. Her hands had just slid up Tissaia’s midsection when there was a knock at the door. It opened a moment later, and the younger sorceress let out an exasperated, frustrated growl.

“For fuck’s sake! Can I not have five _fucking_ minutes?” Tissaia pressed her lips together, trying not to smile, as she sidestepped away.

“I’m _so_ sorry. We need you to review the traps on the fourth-floor parapets.” If it hadn’t been sweet Triss interrupting them, looking as though she would rather be anywhere in the world but where she was, Tissaia wasn’t sure the intruder would have gone unscathed. Yennefer’s expression softened and she waved her hand in acquiesce.

“I’m not kidding,” she shot back, before she disappeared around the corner. “You best make time, or the next time I find you I don’t care who walks in.”

* * *

Hours later, Yennefer was interrupted with a burst of desire that echoed pleasantly from her head to her toes. She finished her sentence hastily and moved away from the group of mages, who were already rushing off to do what they were told, while she went to lean against a wall.

**What are you doing?**

**_Thinking_ ** **. Why don’t you come and find me?**

Yennefer dismissed herself from the group by saying that she needed to attend to something important and then retire. She made sure to bark at the others to get some sleep. The Nilfgaardian Empire was close. This would be their last evening.

The lighting in the library was always poor at this hour, enchanted candles and flickers from the hearth cast long, moving shadows. The aisles were so narrow that two people could barely fit side by side, and Yennefer felt almost giddy as she searched down the narrow alcoves. It was easy to get turned around, and even with the bond, it was difficult for Yennefer to find the Rectoress, who ended up being tucked away near the back. Tissaia tilted her head, but ignored the approaching sorceress in favour for the tome in her hand.

Yennefer came up behind her and wrapped her arms around Tissaia, nuzzling her neck. The Rectoress tucked away what was in her hand, in favour of turning around and wrapping her arms around Yennefer’s shoulders.

“Wrong spot,” Yennefer teased against her ear, motioning to the book that should have been a shelf above. Tissaia huffed, but had no response as she was pinned up against a shelf for the second time that day. One of Yennefer’s hands forced her head to tilt just a little bit, allowing her to nip at a spot on her neck that she knew made the other woman squirm. It had the desired response – Tissaia’s expression darkened, and there was a slight, impatient lift of her hips.

“You should have told me you wanted to be fucked in the library, Arch-mistress. How _indecent_.” Tissaia just laughed then, mischief dancing in her eyes. Yennefer undid the front of Tissaia’s dress, a series of buttons that ran high across her collar bone and down past her naval. Her mouth travelled along her chest and pulled at the fabric that was in her way.

“I’m telling you now.” Yennefer smiled as she took a nipple between her lips, and she gave it a firm tug until she was content with the keening noise above her. She released, much to Tissaia’s dismay, but then spun the Rectoress around, one hand reaching around and attending to the breast that had been left out of her ministrations, while the other trailed up under the back of her skirt.

Yennefer gave a shaky exhale against her back; Tissaia wasn’t wearing underwear. Her folds were slick against Yennefer’s fingers and she wondered how hard exactly Tissaia had been _thinking_ about this earlier. Had she touched herself?

**Yes** _._ Tissaia answered in her mind, pushing back in encouragement. Yennefer pressed her fingers teasingly against Tissaia’s opening, then pushed the tips in and drew them out, making the body against her writhe.

**Tell me where.**

**Right here. Just like this. Thinking about the things you could do to me here. Knowing anyone could find us like this. Now stop teasing me.**

If anyone had told her six moons ago that Tissaia de Vries would give into her desire in the middle of the afternoon, in the library, while fantasizing about her, _well, she would have called them crazy and tossed them straight in the lake._

The wave of desire that Yennefer had felt must have been Tissaia bringing herself to a peak – a crash so fierce that Yennefer had experienced it through their bond half a citadel away. Yennefer imagined Tissaia standing here, hiking her own dress to touch herself. How every sound would have made her freeze, until she was so far gone that she no longer cared. And what would she have done if caught?

The thought of it made Yennefer moan, and she gave the Arch-mistress exactly what she wanted. Her fingers pushed as far as they would go, curled, and withdrew. Tissaia, in turn, began to rock herself back and forward, setting the pace that she wanted. Small whimpers escaped her every time that Yennefer’s fingers buried themselves.

She was bent over, arms gripping the shelf in front of her. Yennefer’s hand slipped down to steady her by the waist, and their movements became borderline desperate. Despite Tissaia's attempt to bury her head into an arm to stifle her sounds, they became louder too.

Tissaia slammed herself back against Yennefer and tensed, walls clenching around her fingers as her orgasm hit. Yennefer moved against her the best she could, basking in the ecstasy from the final waves of Tissaia's orgasm. When she stilled, Yennefer turned her back around and pressed tightly against her, admiring how her face was flushed and escaped hair framed her face. Her breaths were quick and her eyes bright. Her fingers came up and looped inside of Tissaia's dress, pulling it from her shoulders so that she was bare from the waist up.

“Rectoress,” she murmured between kisses, moving so that her own clothes were discarded easier. "I think you should tell me _exactly_ what kind of things you imagined me doing to you.”

* * *

They were woken by the sound of Thanedd’s warning bells. Scrambling to get their clothes back on, for they had used them as blankets on the aisle floor, they answered the summons and hurried through the hallways to where they needed to be. Everyone knew where they had to go, so the hurried bustle of the island’s occupants was nowhere near as chaotic as it could have been.

The two women took their place on third floor parapets, which gave them room to observe and cast if need be, but kept them out of harm’s way at the same time. For now, anyway. Their own mages scattered hidden on the shores below, ready to fight however needed.

Nilfgaard, on the other side of the lake, seeped from the trees like a swarm of locusts. There were so many of them congested together, trying to push to the shore. But numbers didn’t phase them - not this time. This was their turf, and the tide of the battle would fall to who had better mages. The soldiers would be an annoyance due to their sheer number, but little else.

Fringilla was sorely mistaken if she thought they were going fall without a fight. Perhaps if they had taken the island first, when the Chapter was still arguing on whether or not this was their problem, the element of surprise would have made the fight in their favour. And the enemy may have had an alarming amount of mages, but their quality was much to be desired.

Not every one of Thanedd's sorcerers or sorceresses were there. Some of them had taken the students away two days earlier, as planned. Some wanted nothing to do with this fight, so they had not showed up. But there was enough. Certainly more than the measly twenty-two they had before. That, and they had _weeks_ of preparation behind them.

Yes, there was a very good chance that the island would not fall. The fact that Stregobor had volunteered to defend an area himself spoke volumes in that regard.

Fringilla’s other problem was that she assumed that she had tapped into an all-knowing wealth of knowledge by dabbling in forbidden magic. That she was smarter and more powerful because of it. That she had mastered the basics and reigned in her chaos. But her battle magic was mostly just dirty little tricks that they knew now. And her preferred area of expertise was not a natural gift.

Tissaia and Yennefer had spoken of it in length over the last few weeks, Yennefer listening solemnly and only asking questions when she didn’t understand. (A vast improvement, Tissaia would tease her afterwards.)

Those who had ascended from her class were still children in the world of chaos. Still growing. Still learning. And though they could pull at impressive amounts of energy as youths, when they overdid it, it was the seasoned adults that were needed to protect them or help them recover. When they did recover, they tended to run off and make the same mistakes again.

This had not sit well with Yennefer, but she couldn’t dispute it. It may have helped a little that Tissaia had laughed and kissed her tenderly, assuring her that it was an analogy for her chaos only, and that she was no longer a child in any other regard. That, and without someone parting with their carefully hoarded and riddle-prone knowledge (which mages loved to keep to themselves) it was an easy mistake to make until she reached a couple of centuries.

It was very likely that Fringilla had assumed that throwing demetrium in the Arch-mistress’ face would have humbled her. It would have killed a lesser sorceress normally, which should have been her first warning sign. And then there was Yennefer, whispers of her temporary blindness and subsequent bond reaching Nilfgaardian ears. As far as their enemy was concerned, two of the most powerful sorceresses were at their weakest. Which couldn’t have been much further from the truth.

The two of them stood together and watched soldiers pile into their boats. A column of infantry was already preparing to cross the bridge – an idiotic move unless they had done nothing in preparation. To have so many lives that you had enough to carelessly throw away…

Yennefer took Tissaia’s hand and squeezed gently.

“I don’t think Aretuza will fall.”

“We will do what we must.”

“Yes, but I will do everything I can to save it.” Tissaia leaned into her, pressing a kiss against her shoulder.

“Aretuza has always been my everything. But I would burn it down myself if it meant keeping you safe. Don’t forget that.” Yennefer smiled. She had no intention of either one of them dying tonight, but if it meant saving Tissaia’s home, she wasn’t going to hold back either.

As the soldiers made it two thirds of the way across, the bridge blew spectacularly. It was a surprise to neither side. Those on it were either killed in the explosion, or thrown into the water. Those who survived were likely not as lucky as they thought, Yennefer mused. The ripples from the bridge did not cease, and they continued to churn until the little dinghies were cresting full-blown waves. They were tossed around so erratically, that some of their occupants were falling into the water every time they crashed back down.

There was no wind, which made the whole situation so unnatural that the hairs on Yennefer’s arms stood up. They could see those who had not gotten far in, scrambling back to the bank. A few of the boats set back out, a mage on board to control the torrent around them.

With the mages, some of the boats gained some extra speed and cut through the parted waves with little effort.

“Well, it slowed them down a bit,” Tissaia offered. “They won’t be able to swarm, and the mages below should be able to take care of it.”

“They won’t make it,” Yennefer countered, and she responded with a wink to Tissaia’s searching stare. “ _I wanted it to be a surprise_.”

As if on cue, one of the boats were lost with a loud crack. Demonology may have been a forbidden art, but there was nothing that said you couldn’t summon other unpleasant beasties from around the world. And luckily for them, with Witchers in short supply, monsters were rampant these days. The kraken’s arms snaked and slapped and grabbed at anything and everything within its path. Nothing in the water was safe. And if its tentacles weren’t enough, its head peaked through the waves, and gave away the sheer enormity of its size. There was even more scrambling of trying to escape as panic started ripping through the ranks.

“A kraken? Really?”

“A gift,” she elaborated. “There was a particularly nasty one in the northern reaches of Redania. Now it’s here _._ Fun fact: not a single ship has been able to get past it in ten years.”

Tissaia continued to watch quietly, and though she didn’t react otherwise, Yennefer could feel a hum of approval pulse over their bond. If Yennefer had any say in it, it would be staying right where it was after this was all done. Maybe she’d even volunteer to feed it now and then. She would have to thank Geralt for helping the mages procure it on such short notice.

Nilfgaard’s army was relentless though, and it was just a matter of time before they made it across. While masses of their soldiers were being killed on the shores, they had sent a battalion to the side.

“Over there,” Tissaia whispered, pointing to the spot in the distance where mages were beginning to open portals to the other side of the shore. As the first dozen soldiers marched through, the mage casting the portal fell. No wonder they tried to send their whole army through.

“Their mages don’t have much to them, do they?”

“No, many of them would be mages with no conduit moment. Trained solely to burn bright and disappear. Look. Here we go. Let’s see what you can do.” Yennefer followed Tissaia’s finger back to the west, where another set of mages were summoning life fire like they had in Sodden. 

Yennefer concentrated. She relaxed her shoulders like Tissaia had taught her, and invited her chaos to rise from its coiled nest. Tissaia’s danced in kind, and excitement buzzed between them.

There was no reason to explode this time.

It was early. Their casualties were minimal. They could stop this. Together. Burn Nilfgaard. Her chaos danced around her. _Wait for it_.

And there it was, the ball of fire racing towards Thanedd. Everyone had been ordered to leave it if it happened. If they had missed it, it would have rocked the citadel and collapsed the entire west wing on impact. Yennefer wondered if Fringilla was testing the waters again, or if she was arrogant enough to think it may work. Yennefer had no doubt that her bonding had been attached with quite a series of rumours. She was a wreck. Uncontrolled. How dreadfully incorrect.

So early on and they had already made their mistake. The two of them had been banking on Fringilla using the same trick twice.

The ball of fire stopped, the roar of it was deafening. She held it. She wrapped it. It pulsed and grew, a mini sun hovering over the lake. Tissaia poured her own chaos into it, and it turned a vibrant, terrifying shade of blue.

**That’s enough, Yennefer. Conserve the rest.**

She was in control, and for once, not fighting against her own nature. And it felt wonderful. Even more than when her chaos took the reigns and lashed out. And with Tissaia beside her, she mused that she could do anything.

The globe screamed all the way back to the other side. The water, hundreds of meters below, rippled from the sheer force of it. When it hit, the impact was so severe that the world held its breath for a moment before all hell broke loose.

They could feel the shockwave from where they stood. The waves were already violent, but now they were tsunami level, and she could hear their own people casting shields or evacuating back into the citadel. There were no sounds from the army, only the continued howl as the fire danced and engulfed the banks, sparing nothing. They disappeared into the forest, which ignited, and travelled back through the rest of the Nilfgaardian ranks.

And then with a crack, the flames stopped. They splintered and rang against one another as they spiked and arced from the ground. And the jingle of Tissaia’s ice magic warped Yennefer’s fire and turned it to field of ice, dancing and joining after the destruction that Yennefer had caused.

They stood there and stared at the outcome of their combined chaos. The other side of the bank was eerily quiet. The only noises were the continued scuffles from down below on their own banks, and the odd explosion coming from inside.

Yennefer trusted that Rita, Triss and Sabrina would not allow the conduit pools to fall, but she reached out to check on them anyway.

**How are you guys holding up?**

**We’re all fine. A couple of soldiers and an odd mage. Nothing we can’t handle.** Rita’s exhilarated reply sounded like it may have been a bit more than a couple, but as long as they were okay, Yennefer wouldn’t question it. Sabrina interjected with her own: This place is so rigged anyway, we’ll be fine.

**I haven’t done anything.** Triss added in, sounding a bit antsy. **Maybe someone should cover for me and I can start helping our injured?** She was back at the conduit pools as a last defence, so her not having done anything was a relief more than anything.

**Hold your position. There will be lots of time for healing after.**

“The girls are all fine,” Yennefer called to Tissaia. The Rectoress nodded.

“Stregobor’s are holding out as well. Our biggest concern is the archives. If they fall, we need to warn everyone and detonate the traps.”

“They _won’t_ fall. I’ve been so looking forward to my long and uneventful life trapped here with you, we’ll just have to protect them.” Tissaia gave her a deadpan stare, not as effective as the corner of her mouth twitched.

“Yennefer! Rectoress! There are undead on the second floor!” Yennefer groaned and turned to Tissaia.

“Go to the archives and make sure they’ll hold. I’ll go take care of the mess downstairs.”

“Very well.” Yennefer faltered for a moment, finding it strange that Tissaia acquiesced so easily, but didn’t think much more of it as the young mage led her back down the stairs.

* * *

Tissaia summoned her sceptre that Stregobor had been so kind to repair, and waited at the entrance the archive halls. The sounds of battle were distant, and she took the time to close her eyes and meditate.

“Ah, here we are. Move aside, Rectoress.” Tissaia narrowed them at her former student. She had two mages who flanked each side of her.

“This is your last chance. _Leave_.”

“Oh - no trying to persuade me to come home? No pathetic lies trying to reign me in? Or do they only work on the little bitch you’ve been dragging around behind you? Tell me, is she more than you can handle Arch-mistress?”

Fringilla stepped out of the way almost a second too late. She hadn’t expected Tissaia to flick such a ferocious spell at her in retaliation, especially with such a neutral expression. The mage on her right hadn’t cast his protective spell quick enough. His injury was too severe, and he took a couple of shaky breaths before slumping to the ground.

“This will be your final lesson from me.” She whipped the staff so quickly, eyes could barely follow it. Her chaos ripped along the walls. Stone and ice rained at them, and the two remaining assailants ducked behind columns.

Elder filled the hall as the three of them muttered series of curses and counter-spells. They hid behind nearby columns, causing the walls and floor to take more damage than any of them combined. The hall grew dark and Tissaia could feel her breath hitch as her eyes tried to adjust. There was something scraping about, but she couldn’t pinpoint where it was.

_Yennefer_. She could feel her round the corner, and a spike of anger to accompany it. There was a scream, too masculine to be Fringilla. She doubted Yennefer had spared him.

“Yenna~” came the sing-song voice. “Did your master call for you?”

There was no answer, but Tissaia could feel Yennefer’s temper rise further in response. And then a series of things happened at once. Yennefer let out a sharp cry at the same time that Tissaia felt something pinch her ear. _No_.

Their connection began to waver erratically, and though she was still there, she couldn’t quite make the connection. The darkness filtered away and Yennefer was on her knees, her arms shaking to hold her from falling the rest of the way down.

“Something bit me,” she growled. “And I can’t fucking move.” Fringilla smiled coldly as she studied the pair of them, approached Tissaia, and pushed a dagger into her palm.

“Kill her.” Panic laced Yennefer’s face as she realized Tissaia was engaged in a battle of her own. With the same damn shit they had already gone through with Sabrina. Tissaia grimaced, and fought to keep her feet rooted to the spot. _She wouldn’t_. And the sorceress in front of her watched her curiously, impressed by her resistance, but with a knowing smirk. The Rectoress finally gave in and turned towards Yennefer. The first step was agonizing.

Yennefer could only watch Tissaia shamble towards her. She didn’t beg; she didn’t say anything. And Tissaia just watched as her panic melted into something else. Forgiveness. Resolve. She willed herself to trip and fall on the dagger herself, but it was no use.

“Tissaia,” Yennefer whispered, feigning a brave voice. Tissaia dropped in front of her, hand shaking. “It’s okay.” Tissaia dipped her head.

_It was not okay._

_This couldn't be happening._

_No._

"NO!" Tissaia shouted, and her chaos roared to life, furious and vengeful that anything would _dare_. It dislodged whatever hold the parasite had on her, and she felt it wither and fall. Her chaos shot back of its own accord so forcefully, that Fringilla could only give a squeak as she was torn from her spot and slammed into the wall. The bond between Yennefer and Tissaia relit, and Tissaia turned, fuming, and threw the dagger as hard as she could at Fringilla’s sagging, already dying form. She didn’t bother watch what life was left of her drain out. She felt her own consciousness starting to fade, and so she turned back and searched Yennefer feverishly until she found a miniature, metallic scorpion embedded into her ankle. Not unlike the parasite that had gotten her.

She ripped it from Yennefer, who half-screamed and half-yelped, crushed it and threw it across the hall. The younger woman was mouthing something, but Tissaia’s eyes were already closing and she curled into Yennefer’s embrace. She would later find out that they stayed like that until they were found in the aftermath of the battle.

* * *

They had spent a few days in recovery, and then the rest of the week resting in their chambers. They could hear the repairs echoing around them through the day, the bustle down the hallway as supplies were rushed to and from, and several people stopped by to check on them, relay information, or just for a visit.

The Nilfgaardian empire, what was left, had returned home. Tissaia didn’t really care what they were going to do there. They no longer had a head mage, nor did they have the army that they had before. Their defeat had been resounding, and reached every corner of the continent, and Tissaia hoped that their victory would warn any future would-be invaders that Thanedd was off-limits. It would, at least for a little while.

The students were starting to filter back in, but classes would not resume in full for a couple of weeks still. For now, they were helping around the academy.

And tonight, to celebrate the return to normalcy, there would be a gala. Of course there would be, for there always had to be some sort of celebration for every sort of event. The grand hall had been transformed back to normal from the temporary infirmary it had been, and as she walked in, she would have never guessed that there had been a hole the size of a building blown through the north wall.

As she entered, she could feel eyes swivel to her. This is why she always tried to arrive early; she didn’t need to make a spectacle of herself. Not like – _ah_. Her eyes found her target, who came and waited patiently at the bottom of the steps. There was a sly smile tugging at her lips.

**Beautiful,** Tissaia complimented over their connection.

**I am aware.**

**Brat.**

**Mm, you love me.** The accompanying grin was contagious, and by the time that Tissaia reached the bottom step, a matching smile had graced her own features. The Rectoress extended her hand, and Yennefer took it with a flourish, pulling Tissaia from the step into a sweeping spin. Though normally she would be mortified at the public display of affection, she couldn’t bring herself to care at this point. Let them talk.

“Are you going to dance with me tonight?” Yennefer asked, the hope apparent in her voice. A sudden possessiveness swelled up in the Rectoress as she realized that if she didn’t, her partner would be hounded all night by oblivious would-be suitors. She reached up and pressed her lips against Yennefer, who froze in surprise, but quickly returned the show of affection.

“Yes,” Tissaia breathed against her mouth, while tracing a cheek fondly. Yennefer’s mouth, though she hadn't thought it possible, had split into an even more brilliant smile. “Let me get a drink and say hello to those I must, and then you can dance with me all night.”


End file.
